First Meeting

I did not want to go. It was hot--dizzy-making, sticky hot. I did not want to go. I shivered with nausea as I drove around the block, looking at the building. Finally I parked and dragged my shame inside. I did not want to go. Kind people welcomed me cordially, but jittery, foggy, I could not track very well. I sat rigidly, wedged between two women, and listened. I believed the speakers--they knew, and more than I did. Kind people pressed me to sit down, talked to me. I had to get out. I drove home very slowly and went to bed, awfully sick, cold sweats, no sleep, much, much nausea, and I thought and thought. Next morning I stayed in bed, still vomiting and thinking.