-> KQ> slow, but even I couldn't ignore this "coincidence." So now I  am
-> KQ> trying to screw up the courage (humility?) to attend a meeting.
-> KQ> There's  so much I need to talk about and work through. But I can
-> KQ> let this  opportunity slip by now -- I have a feeling that this i
-> KQ> got to be the turning point for me, or else ...
->
-> Then I remember that when I felt as you do the fear of humility
-> vanished as I was accepted into the fellowship unconditionally and
-> hurt bad enough that I heard the message...
I'll never, NEVER forget those first few meetings, and the sense of
finally coming "home" and being among my own kind for maybe the first
time in my life.
And boy, the effective, unsentimental kindness of those people!
By the second meeting, I had the shakes so bad I though I was going to
climb out of my skin.  Never having really tried to detox before--I was
in the mental health profession and knew a good deal about everybody's
alcoholism but my own, and an effort to quit would've been an admission
to myself that i was an alcoholic--I had no idea how long it would last
or what to do about it, and was terribly embarrassed by it. Me, the big
professional, shaking so hard she had to sit on her hands in a roomful
of other drunks.
I really needed, and I mean NEEDED, a cup of coffee.  Problem was, I
couldn't hold it steady enough to drink it without spilling. And then I
had an experience I've since discovered is fairly common: An old
woman with a strong, kind Irish face came over and said, "Here, let
me help."  She put her hands around mine on the cup and fed me the
coffee a sip at a time.
Grateful but deeply embarrassed, I started to cry.  She gave me a look
of recognition and welcome I will never forget, and said, "That's okay,
honey, we all remember."
And they did. And that's when I knew I was a member of AA.
--- WILDMAIL!/WC v4.11 
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