The evening after the intervention, my sister took me to my first AA meeting.She held my sweaty, shaky hand and walked just in front of me, scanning for problems or people from whom to shield me, like she always does. She took an AA brochure from a table so we’d have something to look at as we sat and joined the circle. On the front was a list of warning signs of alcoholism:
Do you drink more than four servings in a setting? One time I didn’t. Do you ever drink in the mornings? Only on weekends. Do you ever blackout? Can’t remember.Have you suffered negative consequences from drinking? Well, being at an AA meeting seemed like a pretty negative consequence.
Neither of us said a word until my sister leaned over and whispered, “I don’t know if AA is going to be good enough for you. We might need Triple A.”
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