I’ve been going to meetings for several years now. This past Sunday was the first time I ever raised the topic. Fortunately, I didn’t pass out from the excitement, nor did everyone laugh and mock me for the naive and banal nature of my premise.

The thrust of it was this: I have been dealing with a low-grade frustration and discomfort in my dealings with, well, just about everybody. As a conversation ends and I walk away, I find myself muttering under my breath. “Of COURSE I don’t mind, happy to fucking help…” That sort of thing.

So, besides it being not-the-best communications tactic, it also reminds me very strongly of the way I usually felt in the bad old days. A great excuse for drinking.

And that’s why I spoke up. I’d say more about what thoughts people offered in response, but I was too busy making sure I had an appropriate expression on my face, and that I nodded or grinned or grimaced at the right moments.

What it boiled down to (doesn’t it always) was take action, work your program, help another alcoholic, ask for help. And I am by no means dismissing or belittling the advice by characterizing it as a frequent refrain. It’s a frequent refrain because it’s true.