April 24, 1948: the day Mary E. sat on a kitchen floor, took one last drink, and called for help. For years, she lived as a solitary drinker, hiding bottles and stashing money under floorboards to keep her husband from knowing the depth of the wreckage.
She describes the "dreadful, weighty" sickness of a spirit that had shrunk until her world was nothing but the distance between the last drink and the next bottle. The turning point wasn't a crash, but the sad, dark look in her husband's eyes as she lay sick in a rented apartment. Now, she carries a dog-eared, dirty meditation card—a relic from a sponsor—that serves as a shield against complacency.
By turning the show over to a Higher Power, she traded a barren existence for a sense of self-respect, finding a home among the only people who could listen to her without being "conspicuously rude."
Speaker Mary Gonzales. My name is Mary. I'm an alcoholic and a member of AA. And with the help of God and the AA program, I haven't had a drink since April 24th, 1948. I'm decidedly outclassed today. Really, I humbly confess that...
Speaker Mary Gonzales. My name is Mary. I'm an alcoholic and a member of AA. And with the help of God and the AA program, I haven't had a drink since April 24th, 1948. I'm decidedly outclassed today. Really, I humbly confess that I realize this job is too big for me. I don't know whatever made me think I could do it, but I couldn't visualize myself doing almost anything if it's in the future a little way. That is, if it isn't coming up immediately. Because I don't have to think about it yet. Unfortunately the time always comes and now is the hour. The only thing that I can comfort myself with at the moment is that I see many familiar and loved faces in the audience. They're people I'm well-acquainted with. They're people I've grown up with, and they ain't any. All of your faces aren't familiar to me. But I believe we're all alcoholics together, and I'm sure, though I don't know all of you, that you will be just as kind and just as forbearable as the ones I do know. If AA had not done anything else for me, it has performed a great service in that it gave me, for the first time in my life and the only time, a group of people who are willing to listen to what I have to say with courtesy and interest at least on the surface. All my life, until I found AA, I felt that no matter what trivial subject matter or concern, I always felt that I had a great message if I could only get anyone to listen. And in AA, I found that I asked people where I want them when I'm on a program. They've either got to sit there and listen or be very conspicuously rude and get up and walk out. I've also come to believe that perhaps I don't have quite such a great message as I used to think I had. AA has done many things for me, some of which I want to try to tell you about today. The main message that I have to bring you is in myself standing here before this group of people. That message is a miracle. I am a miracle, I know many miracles in AA. I'm able to regard some other people, other members of AA possibly, I'm convinced that they are miracles because I can look at them objectively. I saw them when they came in. I saw them all through those first trying months, and I see them today. And I can see in them a difference that they can't see in themselves. And I hope that they can see the same thing in me. I don't believe that anyone who says, I am an alcoholic and I am a member of they ate, as far as I'm concerned, they need not qualify themselves as an alcoholic. I skip that chore whenever I can usually because the story that I had to tell is not very different from many others I've heard. It certainly is not a pretty story and I find it completely unfascinating. The only thing, the only reason ever that I like to remember what I was and how I behaved and how all this came about is because I believe it is good for me sometimes to reveal this. Being human and with a tendency at times to become complacent when things are going well And it's been, I've put a little distance between my shots and the last drink. I may forget if I don't remember just a little bit. I would like to say a little about that today. I won't go through all these details. I never was put in jail for drinking, but I was threatened with it. I never were hospitalized for drinking. But I might have been, and surely would have been by now, had I not found AA. I don't think it's necessary for these things to happen to all of us. It makes me no less an alcoholic than any of the rest of you. Take my word for it when I assure you that I am an alcoholic. I was an uncontrolled drinker for most of my drinking career. I became an alcoholic very soon. I just simply was made for it, it seemed. I became a solitary drinker very soon because I labored under the delusion that no nice woman drank as I did. I was terrified for fear that the people in my news would discover that I was not a normal drinker. I didn't know, I don't think put it that clearly to myself even in my mind and words, but I did know in my heart No, I was not a normal drinker because I didn't very often come into contact with people who drank as I did. I knew when I went out among a group of people on a party anywhere where there was going to be drinking, especially the last two or three years, I knew before I left home that I wasn't going to get all I wanted there. I wouldn't be able to drink the way I wanted to there. And I accepted that, and I would comfort myself with the thought, well, never mind, Mary, we'll get a bottle tomorrow. And we did. Very often I went to gatherings and only had two or three drinks. I was restraining myself. I couldn't indulge the way I really wanted to. So I began to drink alone. I think that happens perhaps sooner to women than to men. It happens perhaps to more women than it does to men because, as a woman, you don't throw up the weather at 10 o'clock in the morning and shout across to your next-door neighbor and say, come over, let's have a highball. It's all right if a man does that, but a woman can't do that. So I would make drinks. I would drink before a party, and then drink very moderately while there. I would go the next day to get that bottle, and all the way over I would say to myself, Well now don't do like you did the last time. I'm a great one for talking to myself. I still am. Just take two or three drinks. That's all. But of course I never did. Many times I bought a half pint to start with because I thought, well if I only had a half pint, well I won't drink very much. It didn't work. And I employed all the ruses that most of us do sooner or later. I would try not to drink until after five o'clock in the afternoon. Or I would not drink anything but beer. Or I'd only drink mixed drinks. Or I was limit myself to two drinks. And I would say that I would do those prayers, but it never worked. And I knew all the time it wouldn't work. And then I began to hide my whiskey and I would hide my money. I would hid my money for two reasons. I either didn't want my husband to know how much I had or how little I had. I wouldn't want him to know how much i had because he would know that I was to have too much money to buy too much liquor to get too drunk. I wouldn't want to know how little I had, because I had already spent too much money to get too much liquor to get to his house. So that was the situation in our house. My husband knew that I was an alcoholic and I married him. And he married me anyway. He was the very first example that I ever saw a blind face. He used to tell me in the face of all kinds of discouragement, and where he got it I don't know. He would say, you're going to be alright. I know you're gonna turn out alright. There isn't any question in my mind. Well, I may say that he had more faith than I did. I never thought I would turn out Alright. I'm not sure that I would Turn Out Alright yet. I don' t think I've turned out quite yet. But, oh, there were a number of things that brought me to AA. It's just little triangles along the way. I think one of the first that I recall, for about 18 months before I came into AA, I became a great worrier. Of course, I was surrounded by all the fears that all of you have suffered. Fears without name. Fears that I didn't know about. Afraid to leave home and afraid to stay home. Afraid of going to sleep and afraid of staying awake. I didn't know what I was afraid of, but I was just afraid. I was insecure. I was looking for security. I was working for happiness. And it was there all the time. I was always looking in the wrong place. But one of the first things that happened was that my father brought a magazine home to me. My father is a man who never buys a magazine. And it struck me as clear as a flag. It was a Look magazine. And he said, somebody told me that there was an article in there. You know I don't even remember what it was about or anything and I bought the thing and now I don' t know why I bought it. And He handed it to me and I know my father very well and so I said well I'll look through it and I bet you I can find the reason why you bought it and i did. It was this Lillian Ross story in a little magazine about seven years ago or eight. I found it and I knew immediately why he bought it, but I never told him so. I never mentioned it. But I read it and i remembered it. I knew that I had a problem. I knew what my problem was. I knew, that drinking was ruining my life. That every chance of completing the task. But I still clung to the faint and stupid hope that I could learn to drink. I had never tried to quit. Never but one time in my entire life did I try to quit drinking. And that was when I came to AA. I was always trying to learn to drink, any way and every way, hoping against hope that I would be able to drink like normal people and like my husband. There was another thing. I knew a woman in Dallas, and it was a well-known fact that she was a member of AA, and she sometimes went to the same places that I did. And I was amazed at her. She was a matter of great curiosity to me. I watched her. I watched everything she did. She was gay, and she had friends. She was always the center of a small group, and she seemed to enjoy herself, and I could not understand it. She did it sober. But it was important, the fact that I knew her, because it proved to me that somebody, some other woman, other than a friend, besides myself, have a drinking problem. There was another thing. I became totally incapable of carrying out any of my duties or responsibilities and I really didn't have many. The bottle was constantly in my way. It made up my whole life. It was all I thought of. From the last time I got drunk and finally got too sick to drink anymore, I was climbing and pulling and straining toward the time when I would feel well enough to go get another bottle and start drinking again. My world was becoming smaller and smaller and stronger. I was beginning to be afraid to go out. I couldn't trust myself. And one morning, I had been drinking for about eight days and I was pretty sick when I woke up that morning. I've been that sick many times. I've probably been sick physically. But my sickness was a dreadful, weighty, mental and emotional and spiritual thing. And my husband who had never uttered a word of reprimand or complained to me, he never expressed to me He never had said, you've got to quit drinking. Never a word. He's come home many times. When I was so drunk, I couldn't stand up and he chose to ignore it. Played no attention to me. To pretend he didn't see me. And never said a word to me That morning I was too sick to get out of bed. Of course, I thought I was about to die of a heart attack. And he came and sat on the side of my bed before he left for work that morning and he only looked at me and said with a still dark look and his eyes were so sad and I was so unhappy And I think that was the final thing that drove me to do something about myself. After he left that morning, I laid there sick and helpless and looked at the ceiling in this little apartment that we rented and really faced my situation for the first time. And I said to myself, Alright Mary, there's two things you can do. You can go on as you're going know, but the end will be. There's only one other thing that I know of that you can do. There is an AA. Whatever it is, whatever it entails, it has been successful, and maybe it'll help you. I had one great lesson. I went to the kitchen. I hadn't yet in the store. I used to tear up the floorboards looking for my way to get my money. I sometimes got And I had them three or four times when I was drunk, and then I'd make it to a better place. And when I get up the next morning, I couldn't remember whether I actually hid them in that lake or whether I just thought about it. And sometimes I couldn' find them. But I found the bottle that morning, and I sat on the floor in the kitchen, took my last drink, and went to think about them. I got up and walked to the telephone and called. That was on April 24th, 1948. No time at all I was surrounded by A.A.s. They took me over to the club. And I really feel that I began to live on that day. AA has opened doors for me that I didn't know existed. The first door that it opened for me was one of understanding and caregiving. And I walked into the suburban club and known. It was the first, the very first time that I was able to talk about what was the matter with me. It was first time I had ever been able to bring it out into the daylight and really look at it and not have to feel ashamed about it. The attitudes of the people who were listening were very comforting to me. I realized that it wasn't anything new to them. They were very sympathetic. They obviously wanted to help me. I believed, I had no difficulty at all in believing that they had had a life problem. I could certainly see that they were sober. It was perfectly obvious that they weren't happy. And I knew I had come home. All my life, in my heart, I have been missing them. I never had you long anywhere. And I used to stand by myself in the group of people on the table. I'm different from these people. They think I'm just like they are, but I'm not. I don't belong. And so I never had a group where I belonged until I came to LA. I found a home. Because of that it made me feel at home and gave me the only place where I ever had. It gave me, it's the same thing as saying, it gave me self confidence. Now I'm at home anywhere. I'm home everywhere. It's like a cloak that I can wear. I fit any place in the world that I want to fit. I don't have to feel let down, I don' t have to do this. That was the first thing that AA gave to me. And I carry to this day a little card with the AA meditation on it. on it. It was given to me by one of my sponsors. Her name and her at that time telephone number is written on this card, and it's very dog-eared and dirty and lead. And I've seen many cards like it since, but I wouldn't part with that from any seller. For some reason, though all the others say the same thing, this card carries a special message for me. It's the first time had ever read the AA Meditation. This meditation has been so much comfort and so much help to me. It has caused me to stop many a time in the middle of a dinner or on the part of getting into a dinner, and say now wait a minute let's stop and see which category this belongs to. Is this something that I can do anything about? If it is, then I'm spinning my wheel. I must expect it. If it's something that I can do about it in the next sentence to figure out what constructive can I do about this? The A.A. meditation has meant a great deal to me. In time, A. A. gave me another thing. AA gave me back that without which I was lost, my self-respect. It showed me the way to gain back my own self- respect. Any man or any woman living without self- respects is a very, very sorry sight and in a very sorry life. life. I have my self-respect now, and I know this. No matter what anyone else may do or say to me or about me, it may hurt, it might upset me. It may try to make me sick, but it cannot destroy my self respect. Only I can do that. One of the greatest gifts it could have given me. AA taught me to have faith. I have had faith since I came to AA and I have faith today. I had faith that as I have lived a sober life, as I had learned how to live and fit and take my place in society. A day at a time I had faith that I could do that today and that when tomorrow comes I can start to do that tomorrow. And it taught me how to have faith. Another enormous service that that did to me it has never been I was a church when I was growing up But it didn't mean anything to me. I didn't have a problem at that time. But A.A. said something to me that had never been said to me A. A. said, turn it over to God. Turn loose with running the show. And it was a happy thing for me to be able to let someone else take over. I am still happy to do that. I sometimes have difficulty remembering to do it. I don't want to leave the impression that I had it made. Please, not I. I am too full of faults and foibles for that. I'll never have it made I have to start over every once in a while wade back down to rock bottom and take the steps one at a time But I will say that most of the time since I have been in AA, I have remembered. I have always remembered in time so far. I have most ofthe time tried to work the steps of this program to the best of my ability. Not always, but most ofthetime. I have pretty much of a one-track mind and while I'm concentrating on one thing, something else is there to get away from me. So you can see that I have a lot of work cut out for me. I'll be busy, for a long time I hope. AA has opened other doors for me, I would like to treat you to a bit of my personal philosophy if you don't mind. I have a very strong belief that I found AA by no accident at all. I don't know how it came about. I don' t know why it came out. I don''t know the answers to a lot of questions that people, particularly non-AAs, sometimes ask me. But I have come to believe that I don ''t need to know those answers. I really believe and feel that AA saved my life for me. It rescued me from a barren and miserable existence, and it's teaching me how to live. It has taught me how be happy, and I believe that for this I owe a great debt. I believe that I owe this, not only to alcoholics, but that I owe any service, no matter how small it may be, that it comes my hand to do for anyone, anywhere, anytime. Now, I don't mean by this that I should have a great sign painted and marked down the middle of Main Street accompanied by a drum or a band. I don t mean that at all. I don't mean that I'm a crusader, and heaven forbid, I hope you don't think I'm too good. But I do feel that this is not for free. I feel that there are all kinds of ways of paying for what I now have. And I feel there are opportunities every day that come my way that I can pay back just a little bit. I'll never catch up. But I've got to keep putting a little bit in the pill. I've heard it referred to in AA as insurance. I owe to other alcoholics all the consideration and the strong desire to help and the willingness to help that those people who were in AA showed me when I first came in. They were not too busy, nor too selfish, nor to rest up in their own progress. To stop and take time out and give me a hand up. And I owe that to those who are coming along. I've met so much of goodwill and friendship and kindness in AA. But I don't have to tell you about it because most of you have experienced the same thing. I don't have very much more to add, I just want to say that I'm very happy now that I was asked to speak. I'm just about to get to my break now. I was scared to death when I got up here. But I want you to know that I am very, very grateful to A.A. These are truly my people, accusingly my own. And though I know and have friends who are non-AAs, my husband is not an alcoholic. Nevertheless, in my heart, these are my people. I belong here. You belong to me. I'm grateful to you. Thank you very much. Thank you.
Discussion
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