Sue B. was born in London, England in 1961 to non-alcoholic parents — her father an eccentric actuary, her mother a social butterfly. Despite a comfortable, even spoiled childhood, she never felt like she fit in. She started drinking at 12 and by 19 had left England for Amsterdam, where she lived for seven years, falling in with a crowd running international boiler room operations. She made too much money too young, traveled the world — Holland, Israel, Spain, Curaçao, Toronto — and used geography as her primary coping mechanism. Through all of it, she believed she was outsmarting consequences, and when trouble found her, she called Daddy.
She landed in Atlanta around 1990, managed a bar in Underground, and met her husband in 1999. They had a son, Zach, in 2000 — born perfect despite her heavy using through the first three months of pregnancy, which she recognized as the first thing in her life that had nothing to do with her own cleverness. The marriage deteriorated when her husband discovered meth, and by the time Zach was six, her parents took him to England and cut off all financial support. She spiraled hard, squatting in a house, broke and alone.
Her path to AA was circuitous and reluctant. She first walked into a meeting on Christmas Day 2006 or 2007 as a "gift" to a boyfriend, picked up a chip she thought was a thank-you token, and spent the next couple of years convinced she was not an alcoholic. She found an Agape spiritual retreat group, attended for the wrong reasons, and kept having the occasional glass of wine. Everything shifted when she cornered a neighbor named Karen into friendship, then followed her to the Clarkston multiples meeting in June 2009, where she picked up a white chip with no memory of walking up to get it. She was 47.
Sobriety was not smooth. She struggled badly with her fourth step, falling into a deep depression until Karen dragged her out of bed and a network of people helped her break through a buried secret that was blocking everything else. She learned amends could bring grace — her old landlady had been praying for her for years. Today she has 12 years sober, runs a house-cleaning business she inherited from her NA sponsor, and her son Zach is 21, studying film at Georgia State, sober by choice. She credits literature meetings for making the Big Book come alive, and the we of the program for holding her together.
You've been listening for a while — would you take a second to rate it? It helps others find the good ones.
Thanks — your rating was saved!
Discussion
Be the first to share your thoughts on this tape.