What Is Good Will Last

On the Saturday night in 1977 when I attended my first AA meeting, I knew I was home. Something in that room told me I was finally where I belonged after thirty-six years of searching for the "something" that was missing in my life. After all the years of agony, fear, loneliness, lying (you know the rest), I was finally where I fit. That feeling, and the desperate need to somehow stop hurting myself the way I had been for so long, made me willing to do anything I was told to do by the old-timers. "Ninety meetings in ninety days," said one. "Go early and stick out your hand--say, 'I'm new and I need help,'" said another. "Get a sponsor and use that sponsor," said a third. "Study the Big Book. Get honest--with yourself and with others." "Find a home group and get active in it. Make coffee, set up chairs, stand at the door and greet." "Get out of yourself. Find another alcoholic and try to help him when you're down and feeling sorry for yourself." "Get into the Steps if you want to change." "Start looking for what you can give, instead of what you can take." On and on and on it went.