How I FoƘnƇ My HigƋƈƯ

I will never forget the first time I walked into the Rainbow Meeting in Chinatown, Singapore. I was hungover, still half drunk and full of self-loathing. I was at the end of my rope and did not know where else to go. A therapist I was seeing had suggested that I try AA and had recommended this particular meeting, saying that it had a reputation for being especially good for newcomers. And it was. Everyone was so warm and welcoming. A few women approached me after the meeting and offered their numbers. Others invited me to join them for brunch down the street. But honestly, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough! “God” had been mentioned in the meeting so I knew that this program could not work for me, just as it had not worked for my atheist father before me. Another year of drinking went by during which I plunged to new depths of insanity, shame and self-destruction. I crawled back up into that loft in Chinatown with an even greater sense of desperation than I had the year before. This time I was convinced that there was no other hope for me. I had to give AA a real try. I cried and cried and cried my way through my first 3 months in the program. I approached countless fellows to argue my stance against “belief”, to explain that I couldn’t just all of the sudden have faith in some “God”. I fought and scratched and pushed against this concept incessantly, but in my desperation I did as