14. The Past
The Past
TJ
I can’t believeI’m doing this.
I clear my throat and wipe my palms on my jeans. “Hey. Uh, my name’s TJ. I’m an alcoholic. I’m also a heroin addict.” I pause while everyone says, “Hi, TJ,” in unison. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. This is so lame.
Reggie nods his head, prompting me to continue from the back row of the church we’re in.
Why do people hold these meetings in a church? Is it supposed to make us feel like we’re being forgiven for our sins? Or maybe it’s supposed to make us feel guilty for what we’ve done. Catholics love laying on the guilt. I never bought into religion. If there is a God, how could he just stand by and watch all of the horrible things that happen to people?
I clear my throat again. “Fuck, I could use a drink right about now.” Everyone chuckles. “Jesus was into wine. There’s gotta be a bottle around here somewhere.” The crowd laughs louder. “People said they saw him walk on water and shit. My opinion? They were all high as a fucking kite.” A few of the guys whistle and clap. I don’t know what else to say, so I step down and take my seat in the back.
Reggie shoves me through the door once the meeting is over. “You’re not there to do stand-up. If you don’t take this shit seriously, you’ll never be in control.”
“I was nervous. I felt like a jackass.”
“Sounded like one too.”
“Gee, thanks. Some sponsor you must be.”
“Did you think this would be easy? Did you think we’d all hug you and tell you how bad we feel about your horrible life? People in there have some real problems—worse than you, if you can get your head out of your ass long enough to see that.”
“I don’t see how sitting around with a bunch of fellow rejects is going to help us get better. Public speaking makes everyone nervous. The whole premise of the meeting makes people want to drink and use. Sorry for trying to lighten the mood a little.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for your shit. If you put in the effort, you’ll see results. Trust the process.”
“Trust?” I grunt. Yeah, not happening. “Thanks but no thanks. I came to the meeting so you wouldn’t call the cops on me. Deal’s done.”
Reggie shakes his head. “Suit yourself.”
I storm down the sidewalk. Reggie can’t help me. A meeting can’t help me. I’m destined to live a fucked-up life. There’s nothing anyone can do.
I’m part of the statistic.
Why bother trying to fight it?