From the June 1980 magazine.

. . .I'm Glad I'm an Alcoholic!

ONE OF THE most unusual people I met when first coming to the AA program was a little fireball lady I'll call "A."--a hundred pounds of pure dynamite mixed with feminine charm. I attended a lot of meetings during my first ninety days or so, and A. was at many of them. During that period, I suffered the pains of withdrawal, combined with the necessary, accelerated change that is the hell of not drinking.

Now, this lady had the knack of sensing the way a person was feeling and supplying a verbal jab (or caress, as needed) to help him or her along the road to sobriety. I thought this was uncanny, and sometimes suspected A. of being a shrink or a social worker smuggled into the meetings just to work on me. This was a typical reaction of mine at that time--a paranoid distrust that was part of the spiritual hangover from all those years of drinking.

-- M. B.

Bingham, Maine

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