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that got me back to meetings, and it had been so long it might as well have been my first. I remember reaching for the handle on that church door and just hoping the door would be locked. It wasn't a men's meeting, but there happened to be all men there that night. A few guys came over to me, introduced themselves and shook my hand but didn't ask anything else of me. Not why I was there, not how long I'd been sober, nothing but a handshake, smile, and offer of a cup of coffee and a seat. When the meeting started, they asked if anyone was there for their first meeting and I didn't raise my hand or say anything-I was scared stiff. The guys started telling their stories and they all sounded just like mine or even worse and I started thinking-if these guys can stay sober and drug free then maybe I had a chance. They kept sobriety real simple. They said things like don't worry about staying sober-just don't drink or drug today-do it a day at a time, and if that's too long try an hour at a time or a minute or a heartbeat at a time, just don't pick up that first drink or drug-get to a meeting or call somebody. Toward the end of the meeting no one else was raising their hand and, I swear I don't know how this happened but my hand went up and the guy called on me. I vaguely remember saying my name. I don't know if I said I was an alcoholic, I don't remember anything that I said. I was petrified. I don't even remember the meeting ending. The next thing I remember was being swarmed by men-and I'm not talking about touchy, feely, Dr. Phil kinds of guys. These were the kinds of guys I drank and got high with. Big tough blue collar-biker dudes. They were all shaking my hand, hugging me, giving me phone numbers, asking me if I needed rides and telling me to keep coming back. They were more than willing, they were happy to pass on to me what was so freely given to them. All my life I wanted to fit in someplace and I never felt like I did. Not in bars, not with people I got high with, not even with my own family. Here was a bunch of strangers, recovering drunks and druggies at that, who wanted nothing from me and were going to love and accept me who I am, where I am and what I am and, they say, they'll do it until I love and accept myself the same way. Peace and thanks m
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