A Good Cry At The Alcathon

I walked into the Never Too Young meeting on the third Sunday in March. It was my fifth AA meeting and I was still struggling with the idea of being an alcoholic and never drinking again. The meeting was held in a Catholic school cafeteria with wood paneled walls and long tables. Metal folding chairs were scattered here and there. The room was packed with people chatting and laughing, coffee cups in hand, nibbling on chocolate cookies and slices of cake. I was shaky and shy and sat in the front, as suggested.