and I was bored. Restless, irritable, discontent. But by now I had more “selves”. One of these selves was a tough-strong-woman-with-good-recovery-who-said-all-the-right-th ings-at-meetings-and-who-wasn’t-going-to-crack. I made sure I still ticked a few of the boxes – I kept in touch with my sponsor, chaired a weekly meeting, and started working the steps again. Not nearly enough, it turns out. I got diagnosed with ADHD a couple of months ago. It seemed to explain so much of the ‘isms. The scattered mind, the inability to focus for too long, the hyper energy, the struggles with relationships, even the alcoholism. When the doctor suggested medication, I talked to him about my alcoholism and my sponsor about the medication and overall I felt confident that I would be fine. I started taking the medication and for the first 2 months it seemed God sent. It was a really mild stimulant and I felt a very gentle calm after every dose. The trouble started when I went to my best friend’s wedding. I am generally of a cheerful disposition in public. And I had great fun at the wedding. I am extremely careful about my sobriety and don’t even eat any food, chocolates, desserts with any kind of alcohol, always checking multiple times. And so even at this wedding, I felt sober. Except, what I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t emotionally sober. I had been feeling really scared about what I am going to do professionally, was feeling worthless, and to top it all my best friend had found love, and I hadn’t. I was still stuck in some old patterns and no matter how hard I seem to be trying, I don’t seem to be finding the love I so badly desire. Anyway, these feelings were lurking in there somewhere. And I hadn’t really been talking about them. I was barely conscious of them myself. I had been busy trying to numb them through

“My name is Anjali and I am an alcoholic. “ I have been introducing myself this way in various meetings over the last 8 years. I couldn’t say it at my first meeting. It felt like too much of a shock to the system. More than the alcohol, you ask? Yes, at the time, the ego was struggling to feed its shell. Anything that felt like an assault to the ego was avoided. But alcohol didn’t really give a damn. In fact, it seemed to revel in smashing the ego. And so, by the second meeting, I began to say it , ego in smithereens. That was 8 years ago. I got sober in Singapore and have been an active part of the program for most of these years. I have always had a sponsor, I have attended numerous meetings( 90 in 90 in the first 90 days), have chaired meetings, have had sponsees and have worked those steps at least 5 times over the years. If you had asked me if I could tick every box of what anybody in AA should be doing, I would have double ticked, with a bright neon marker on all of them. Until last year that is. I lost my job in Singapore, moved back to India to live with my mother, took a “well-deserved” sabbatical and decided to let Covid take the blame for it all. No doubt, Covid did play a number on the world. I don’t mean to take away from its impact, but as an alcoholic I realise that ultimately, the responsibility of my recovery lies with me, no matter what is happening in the world outside. So over the last few months, the number of zoom meetings dwindled, my connections felt weaker, I stopped praying, and I went into a morass of self pity. 8 years of doing the same stuff

staying busy, social and charming. My social media feed is testimony to this. The wedding was wonderful. I was genuinely happy for my bestie. He and I had been single together for the longest time and now he had found his love. Even if there was a twinge of envy, I hid it well. I only wanted to be more present at the wedding. And so I decided to take double the dose just so I could feel more “alert” while the world around me drank away. It felt fine, I was happy and having fun. What could go wrong? Turns out a lot. A few days later I overdosed on the medication. And thankfully because of the years of AA messaging, I called my sponsor just in time. Hearing her voice was the only thing that cut through the armour at the time. Friends took me to the hospital and I spent 2 nights in the ICU. Alive. But scared shitless. It could’ve been alcohol, I could’ve been dead. But I knew lying in that bed that my HP wasn’t done with me. I had more work to do, I had to live a fuller life, I had to help some more alcoholics. I had to laugh a lot more( at myself more than anyone else!), I had to eat more wonderful food, dance a little, sing a lot, meet more people, find love, be there for my friends and family, walk hand in hand with more sponsees, ring my sponsor, follow her advice( or not!), work the steps again, be of service to some organisation that needs me, and share my experience, strength and hope at another meeting. The sun, the wind, those pretty lilies I love, and the earth beneath my feet, they all seemed to say- “Not yet you silly woman, not yet.”

There is much to do, much to live for. And I am grateful that I have been given the chance to do so. I attended my first meeting after that ordeal this morning, and it felt good to say- “My name is Anjali and I am an alcoholic.” There, it rolls off my tongue like butter now. And it feels like my truest self.