Damn Your Old Meetings

One Sunday, Bill asked me if I was ready to go to the meeting with him. To my astonishment as well as his, I burst forth with, “Damn your old meetings!” and threw a shoe as hard as I could.

This surprising display of temper over nothing pulled me up short and made me start to analyze my own attitudes. By degrees I saw that I had been wallowing in self-pity, that I resented the fact that … I was left alone while he was off somewhere scouting up new drunks or working with old ones. I felt on the outside of a very tight little clique of alcoholics that no mere wife could enter. … My life’s purpose of sobering up Bill, which made me feel desperately needed, had vanished. … I decided to strive for my own spiritual growth.

How Al-Anon Works for Families and Friends of Alcoholics (B-22, B-32), “Lois’ Story,” page 153-154.

*The photo is of a 1930’s woman’s shoe and not a picture of Lois’ actual shoe.

damn your old meetings cross stitch