Not My Cup Of Tea
I was told recently that some (ok, all 3 of) my posts were a tad depressing. So I am going to attempt something a bit more light. Here's the story of my experience in 12step and 12 step supportive meetings. I understand that the specifics of those programs are confidential, so I will be as vague as possible. If I offend anyone, I apologize.
My son got in a little trouble last summer, resulting in having to attend out-patient rehab for substance abuse. One of the requirements of that program was to attend some kind of 12 step program. I finally got him to attend his first one in a church in the neighboring town. Although he is 17, and completely capable of going alone, I went along with him for some moral support, and, let's be honest, to keep an eye on him in case any weirdo tried to pick him up or sell him anything.
So we walk into this church we had never been in. We do not attend church, so going into one was a little bit uncomfortable, more for him, I am sure. The group was held in a room where the choir must practice. There was a ring of chairs on the floor and along the back wall was a set of large "steps", but wide enough to stretch out on, and carpeted, spanning the whole back wall. I imagine the choir stands there, and practices. Being new, and not particularly interested in mingling, we climbed to the second from the top step, in a corner, and sat down. The moment I dreaded came when the meeting was called to order - introductions. I noted in the schedule the meeting was listed as "closed". I assumed that meant only people with that particular issue was welcome. As the people in the ring of chairs started to recite their intros, "Hello, my name is _______. I am an ___________", I began to panic. What should I say? Do I lie and say I was one too? Do I say I am here with my kid, and possibly be asked to leave? If they tossed me out, I knew there was no way he was going to stay by himself, and this was a requirement of rehab. Naturally, since we selected the far in the back corner seats, we were the last two to have to speak. He went ahead, "Hi, my name is _______. I am an ________." Then I felt every head in the room swing around to me. I felt like I was pinned by their expectant stares. Feeling flushed, I blurt out "Uhhh, My name is Cyndi. I'm here with him", I say, pointing to the kid. "I'm his mom. This is our first time." As if that would keep them from asking me to leave. In the end, I could not bring myself to lie and say that I had their problem.
Of course, everyone was pleasant and welcoming. I was not asked to leave, and stayed to support my kid. I learned that although the group seemed very supporting and helpful to those who needed it, I was grateful that I was not one of those people. I mentioned before that we do not attend church. I am not an atheist, I just do not believe in organized religion. And this was just a little too "gody" for my tastes. Needless to say, he attended every other required 12 step meeting on his own or with friends. Not that I wouldn't have gone if he asked, but thankfully, he did not ask.
My next adventure with one of these support groups was at the end of my kid's rehab experience. The counselors throughout the program tell parents to attend the family-support group, as it gives some insight into what the kids are going through. So a week after my son was discharged, I decided to give it a try. I went back to the same town that held the previous meeting, although a different church, to try to get moral support for the craziness I had been experiencing. The schedule indicated the Beginners Meeting began at 8 on Monday nights, so I got there a few minutes after 8. It was a small room, so I took a chair right inside the door, in case I needed to leave in the middle.
I allotted an hour for the meeting, and was looking forward to being home to watch The Big Bang Theory. There were 2 women (one about my age, andother one older) and 2 older men seated in the circle of chairs. One seemed to be the leader. She asked if I had been to any meetings before, and told me a little of what to expect. Then she handed me a book, similar to a prayer book, that I could borrow. She told me I should buy one if I was going to keep coming back. She suggested other meetings in the area, and that I should plan to do 90 meetings in 90 days, like our addicted loved ones do. To that, my response was "Yeah... uh, that's not going to happen." 90 more of these things, for the next 90 day? I don't think so. My kid is not even that committed to being sober - he is legally required to be for the next 6 months. She handed me literature to look over, in my spare time. So I sat and waited for them to begin. And sat. And waited. And waited while the 4 people talked among themselves and with the other people as they trickled in for the next 30 minutes, mostly women, and mostly older ones.
Daylight savings had recently begun, so one of the older guys who was there when I came in decided to try to reset the clock in the room. He fiddled with it forEVER. He could not figure it out, so three other people tried. As new people came in, they tried. I have no idea why they couldn't figure it out. One person suggested it might be "one of those atomic clocks". In the end, and after 8:30, they gave up and eventually the meeting started. Again, we went around the room with "Hello my name is ____________." But this time, we continued with "I am here for/because of __________." When that was done, they went around the room reading some mantra they must do every time. I again felt that flushed, panicy feeling about having to read. I love reading in my spare time, but reading aloud in public has never been enjoyable for me. As the readings went on, I counted out the people between the current reader and myself to figure out what I would have to read. I thought I was in luck, that there were more people than numbered things in the list, but then they started reading anOTHER list! Again, I counted to see which I would get stuck with and of course, it was the longest one.
The rest of the meeting continued. I assume what went on is confidential, so I will not divulge any of their secrets - except to say that I passed on sharing anything personal. In fact, other that muttering "I pass" the next time the discussion circled my way, I said nothing to no one and spent a lot of time looking at my cell phone clock.
A little after 9:30, by the time I gave up any hope of getting home to watch something uplifting and humorous, the meeting ended. I was the first one standing, whipped my coat off the back of my chair and swirled it around and on, picked up my purse and was headed to the door, just three measly feet to freedom, when BOOM - there was some man in front of me, blocking my escape. He wanted to know how I was, what I was feeling, apologizing for the fact that some of the stories people related were actually humorous or uplifting instead of dark and depressing. OK, like who wants to feel sad and depressed about their crapy lives? Oh - these people did, I guess. Our conversation was as short as I could manage, with very brief responses on my part, and without me adding anything to it. As soon as I saw just a teeny tiny opening, I was around him, dropping the borrowed book and their literature back on the table and out the door. I practically flew to my car, and was probably back home before the rest of them rose from their seats!
I have not been back. I am sure these people were all very nice, and I am very happy that they found a way to cope with their problems. But I learned that 12 step or 12 step support groups are just not my cup of tea!
My son got in a little trouble last summer, resulting in having to attend out-patient rehab for substance abuse. One of the requirements of that program was to attend some kind of 12 step program. I finally got him to attend his first one in a church in the neighboring town. Although he is 17, and completely capable of going alone, I went along with him for some moral support, and, let's be honest, to keep an eye on him in case any weirdo tried to pick him up or sell him anything.
So we walk into this church we had never been in. We do not attend church, so going into one was a little bit uncomfortable, more for him, I am sure. The group was held in a room where the choir must practice. There was a ring of chairs on the floor and along the back wall was a set of large "steps", but wide enough to stretch out on, and carpeted, spanning the whole back wall. I imagine the choir stands there, and practices. Being new, and not particularly interested in mingling, we climbed to the second from the top step, in a corner, and sat down. The moment I dreaded came when the meeting was called to order - introductions. I noted in the schedule the meeting was listed as "closed". I assumed that meant only people with that particular issue was welcome. As the people in the ring of chairs started to recite their intros, "Hello, my name is _______. I am an ___________", I began to panic. What should I say? Do I lie and say I was one too? Do I say I am here with my kid, and possibly be asked to leave? If they tossed me out, I knew there was no way he was going to stay by himself, and this was a requirement of rehab. Naturally, since we selected the far in the back corner seats, we were the last two to have to speak. He went ahead, "Hi, my name is _______. I am an ________." Then I felt every head in the room swing around to me. I felt like I was pinned by their expectant stares. Feeling flushed, I blurt out "Uhhh, My name is Cyndi. I'm here with him", I say, pointing to the kid. "I'm his mom. This is our first time." As if that would keep them from asking me to leave. In the end, I could not bring myself to lie and say that I had their problem.
Of course, everyone was pleasant and welcoming. I was not asked to leave, and stayed to support my kid. I learned that although the group seemed very supporting and helpful to those who needed it, I was grateful that I was not one of those people. I mentioned before that we do not attend church. I am not an atheist, I just do not believe in organized religion. And this was just a little too "gody" for my tastes. Needless to say, he attended every other required 12 step meeting on his own or with friends. Not that I wouldn't have gone if he asked, but thankfully, he did not ask.
My next adventure with one of these support groups was at the end of my kid's rehab experience. The counselors throughout the program tell parents to attend the family-support group, as it gives some insight into what the kids are going through. So a week after my son was discharged, I decided to give it a try. I went back to the same town that held the previous meeting, although a different church, to try to get moral support for the craziness I had been experiencing. The schedule indicated the Beginners Meeting began at 8 on Monday nights, so I got there a few minutes after 8. It was a small room, so I took a chair right inside the door, in case I needed to leave in the middle.
I allotted an hour for the meeting, and was looking forward to being home to watch The Big Bang Theory. There were 2 women (one about my age, andother one older) and 2 older men seated in the circle of chairs. One seemed to be the leader. She asked if I had been to any meetings before, and told me a little of what to expect. Then she handed me a book, similar to a prayer book, that I could borrow. She told me I should buy one if I was going to keep coming back. She suggested other meetings in the area, and that I should plan to do 90 meetings in 90 days, like our addicted loved ones do. To that, my response was "Yeah... uh, that's not going to happen." 90 more of these things, for the next 90 day? I don't think so. My kid is not even that committed to being sober - he is legally required to be for the next 6 months. She handed me literature to look over, in my spare time. So I sat and waited for them to begin. And sat. And waited. And waited while the 4 people talked among themselves and with the other people as they trickled in for the next 30 minutes, mostly women, and mostly older ones.
Daylight savings had recently begun, so one of the older guys who was there when I came in decided to try to reset the clock in the room. He fiddled with it forEVER. He could not figure it out, so three other people tried. As new people came in, they tried. I have no idea why they couldn't figure it out. One person suggested it might be "one of those atomic clocks". In the end, and after 8:30, they gave up and eventually the meeting started. Again, we went around the room with "Hello my name is ____________." But this time, we continued with "I am here for/because of __________." When that was done, they went around the room reading some mantra they must do every time. I again felt that flushed, panicy feeling about having to read. I love reading in my spare time, but reading aloud in public has never been enjoyable for me. As the readings went on, I counted out the people between the current reader and myself to figure out what I would have to read. I thought I was in luck, that there were more people than numbered things in the list, but then they started reading anOTHER list! Again, I counted to see which I would get stuck with and of course, it was the longest one.
The rest of the meeting continued. I assume what went on is confidential, so I will not divulge any of their secrets - except to say that I passed on sharing anything personal. In fact, other that muttering "I pass" the next time the discussion circled my way, I said nothing to no one and spent a lot of time looking at my cell phone clock.
A little after 9:30, by the time I gave up any hope of getting home to watch something uplifting and humorous, the meeting ended. I was the first one standing, whipped my coat off the back of my chair and swirled it around and on, picked up my purse and was headed to the door, just three measly feet to freedom, when BOOM - there was some man in front of me, blocking my escape. He wanted to know how I was, what I was feeling, apologizing for the fact that some of the stories people related were actually humorous or uplifting instead of dark and depressing. OK, like who wants to feel sad and depressed about their crapy lives? Oh - these people did, I guess. Our conversation was as short as I could manage, with very brief responses on my part, and without me adding anything to it. As soon as I saw just a teeny tiny opening, I was around him, dropping the borrowed book and their literature back on the table and out the door. I practically flew to my car, and was probably back home before the rest of them rose from their seats!
I have not been back. I am sure these people were all very nice, and I am very happy that they found a way to cope with their problems. But I learned that 12 step or 12 step support groups are just not my cup of tea!
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