WE

BACKGROUND:
Since I stopped drinking in September '03, I've attended at least 1 A.A. meeting each day. On most days, I get to 2 meetings, sometimes 3. I don't do 90/90; it's more like 180/90. This is not to beat my own drum. This is what it seems to take for me to stay somewhat sane during these early years of recovery.

This past week, from Friday to Friday, I was out of town, in Costa Rica. On vacation with Hayden. I went down there armed with printouts of A.A. meeting locations and phone numbers in both areas we would be staying. We had tourist-type activities planned daily.

I did not make it to a meeting the first 2 days in San Jose (the capital city). Couldn't find the time. But I was fine and just enjoyed the scenery and good times. We then travelled to the Pacific coast resort where we would be staying for 4 days. More activity. All day and night. Day 3 -- no A.A. meeting. I was beginning to notice the change in my thinking. Certainly, Hayden noticed as well. He made mention of it. More than once. Day 4 - again no meeting. Things I was beginning to get ugly. I found fault with just about everything surrounding me. People, places and things. What's that saying about we always hurt the ones we love? You fill in the blank here. End of Day 4 (Tuesday)-- I was batshit crazy.

Wednesday morning I got a taxi and went to the closest A.A. meeting. It was less than a mile away from our hotel. Fine bunch of people, nearly all Americans now living in Costa Rica.
During that afternoon though, I got into an argument with Hayden. About nothing in particular, I was just being insane, finding things to argue about that I made up in my mind. So I went to another meeting at 6pm at a different location, even closer than the last. I shared during that meeting that I had been neglecting myself (my program) these past few days. I admitted that earlier in the day I had an argument with my partner. Then I corrected that statement by saying that I had an argument while he just tried to ignore me. Everybody laughed. They understood.

Now I was OK again. The world was once again a great place to be. I had returned to my normal self (God help us all). I went to another meeting the following morning, feeling all fine and full of recovery. Maybe my HP thought it was time for me to be personally shown that I can no longer treat my disease with words alone. I have to have the fellowship with other sober alcoholics. I must be physically present with you guys in the rooms. Meeting makers make it.

I had neglected the WE of the program. Without that, I have no program.