an excerpt from Better Boundaries
One year ago I walked into an Al-anon meeting.
In the previous month, I’d been to all sorts of 12 step meetings, looking for my home. The pamphlets didn’t describe me, or the people gaped at me — hungry eyes — fresh meat.
The last night of the year I ended up at an AA meeting, because an angel came and found me. I was there, wandering around the church annex looking for another meeting, but apparently I was the only one, and the loneliness of being stood up by other anonymous addicts in my tribe was intolerable.