Feb 27: Think Think Think

Think Think Think

Hi, my name is Lori and I’m an alcoholic. Thank you for allowing me to lead this week’s meeting.

When I lived in Traverse City, Michigan, the club I belonged to was in a dingy old house just a couple blocks south of Lake Michigan. I think it was the nicotine stains that held the curtains together, and the spots on the carpet were, indeed, stains, not polka dots.

But what I remember most about that room were signs on the (yes, stained) walls. One Day at a Time. First Things First. And my favorite, Think, think, think.

Think, think, think. For my wee brain, I’ve taken that to mean think the thought throughwhatever the thought happened to be at that time.

When I first got sober, and still sometimes now, the first think in the series is drinking alcohol. Whenever thoughts of good old days want to be entertained, I find, the best way for me to deal with them to entertain them thoroughly. In other words, move on to the second and third think.

For example, back when I was in the service, I had some really good friends. In the present time, sometimes I think about a friend I served with, what we did, and wonder what s/he is up to now.

Think number one is all well and good, but it can easily move on to think number two, which is turning the slice of time into something way super much more meaningful than it was.

Like the times living in the second platoon barracks of 15th Transportation Company, at Nellingen Kassern, Nellingen, Deutschland, listening to Ozzy Ozbourne’s Crazy Train in Mook’s room, while drinking Stutgarter Hofbrau out of 2 liter bottles, enhanced with shots of German liquors were were discovering. Oh, but weren’t those just the best, best times ever?

If I stop there, take my thoughts no further, I’m doing myself a disservice. I have to move on to think number three.

It takes think number three to remember the night I woke up from a black out and a guy was getting off mea guy I never would have invitedd up in the first placemy panties and tampon laying off to the side.

I have to think the good times through enough to remember that I, as the result of my drinking, put myself in many vulnerable situations, and many times the result was not such a good time.

I have to consider all, all, all the thinks, otherwise I fool myself into thinking that, by not drinking, I’m missing out on the best of times.

What think, think, think means to me is to go beyond the first summons thought, beyond the glorious musing thought, to reality thought, how drinking alcohol is destructive to me.

Remembering that I quit for a reason (that through my drinking, myself and others get hurt) keeps me quit. And helps me remember that these are the best of times, the ones in recovery.

And all this from a nicotine-stained sign on a road I can no longer remember the name of.

Ladies, this week please share on the AA-ism think, think, think, or anything that you need to this week.