I love the suffering alcoholic.

My sponsor says that on a pretty regular basis. I think in some fundamental way it must be true. Hey, he pays attention to me, and to me attention feels like love. No? It’s not? Whatever. I’m supposed to be reaching out to newcomers. The thing about newcomers is, often, that they are perennial. Have been. Actually I’m more biennial, I only show up every other year or so (this is me justifying!). Some of these dudes are in and back out and back in faster than Paris Hilton at the L.A. County Jail. Well I’ve never suffered fools gladly and fools that think they know everything especially irk me. Not that I think I know everything. I don’t. Not by a long shot. But the more you know the more you realize just how much you don’t know. Anyway, I’m walking into a meeting at noon yesterday and run into one of those dudes, Crazy Mike (we call him Crazy Mike). I’ve known this asshole for, what, like a year almost and I’ve never seen him stay sober for more than 45 days. Yesterday he had something like 12. Crazy Mike isn’t just an alcoholic or drug addict, he’s the kind of guy that doesn’t make sense when he’s dry. Let him take crystal meth for a couple of days and he’s WAY PAST INSANE. As I’m walking in to this meeting Crazy Mike says some not quite random and accusatory bullshit to me that is a.) none of his business and b.) simply not true. He delivers this packet of convoluted information in a veiled threat. “You better stop telling your stories . . . . “

Or what, Mike? You’ll kill me?

Then he sits in this meeting and calls on himself to share. How I’m thinking that maybe, in light of the fact that he can’t seem to keep it together for any length of time he should shut the fuck up and listen for once. Maybe give the seed a chance to be planted. But no. Now, I’m no poster child of mental health and while I do share about 12 step recovery, NA, AA, etc. I don’t advertise who I am because if I fuck up that’s me fucking up. But here is this new, psycho, self absorbed son of a bitch sitting in a meeting telling everyone how the steps work and how he knows it.

You’re not really encouraged to stand up in an AA meeting, especially one in a chruch, and say “shut the fuck up!” God knows I would have liked to.

I was still bent about this shit this morning when I was surveying the back yard and drinking a cup’a joe when suddenly I realized that nine months ago -

I was that dude.