You Are My Shadow and My Mirror — Every Bit of Growth Came from Women I Couldn’t Stand Being Around – Teresa F.

Good evening, my name is Teresa. I'm an alcoholic. I'm Teresa. Grateful to be here, grateful to be sober because of a loving God. My heart is coming out of my chest. I feel like an emotional mess. Okay. It's always funny. I'm always like, alright God, this is your gig, I'm here. People staring at us anytime now. I just showed up, you know what I'm saying? Oh, how intimidating this is. I want to thank Ann and the committee so much for asking me to come out. I say, doing a 12-step call on me. I want me to stay sober another day to give back what was so precious. I want to thank the people who have been so freely given to me. I have no idea what's going to happen tonight. I got a lot of stuff going on. And I'm glad this thing isn't rehearsed. Something happened when I asked God to remove my dishonesty. And my ego has been smashed. So I wish I can talk about something else I think I'd rather talk to you about. I'd rather pretend to be something that I prefer you to see. But that's not the case. I can't do it. Dammit. This program works. I'd like to thank Cathy, my host. She's been great. You know, still I go through these little things. I'm glad I got to ask her. I'm glad I got to ask him. I'm glad I got to ask her. I'm glad I got to ask her. I'm glad I got to ask her. These moments where I feel so undeserving of so much love and attention that I receive, especially for a drunk like me and where I come from, still overwhelms me. My heart gets full. There's a lot of familiar faces. I got a sponsee out there, some friends from home, and you got some great speakers this weekend. Angie P., my girl. I told her I was going to sing Amazing Grace because she'd be singing it, but she told me to do it in Spanish, so that's not going to happen. Everybody would be tippy-toeing out. Oh, my goodness. Gracious, great balls of fire. Yes. I love women conferences. Women meetings. There was a time that was not the case. It's why I'm even more nervous, because we really get to talk about some stuff. Doesn't have to be edited. The level of identification is, to me, a whole other level. So I don't know what's going to happen. I remember when I first came to Alcoholics Anonymous, I hated women. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. I did not want to be in the same room with women. I liked being around the men because they told me I was cute and keep coming back, and they would pat me on the back. But I was dying on the inside. And my sponsor put me in the middle of women. And, boy, we have danced the dance. You are my shadow and you are my mirror. I have grown the most through women. I have saw my reflection. I have seen my reflection. It has been extremely uncomfortable. But it's an awesome experience to be in a room with so many women and be okay with myself. And I've been taking that in. I don't feel less than or better than, prettier or uglier. I'm not comparing my outsides or my insides with your outsides. That's an awesome feeling of a sense of peace. To just be okay with who Teresa is amongst all of you. That's a lot of growth. And I'm grateful to God and Alcoholics Anonymous for that. I'm going to get some things out. I want to welcome anybody who's new and tell you that this program works if you work it. And I really hope you have the gift of desperation. So many of us come from different backgrounds, whether it be religious practices or political things that we believe in or cultures and race. But there's one thing that binds all of us. Is that if you be drunk like me, welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. If you be new, the only requirement is a desire to want to stop drinking. I love the traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous. They were a safety net for me when I got here. And because the only requirement is a desire to want to stop drinking, if you be new, it really doesn't matter who you are, where you are, and where you came from. You always have a seat in Alcoholics Anonymous. That was a big deal to me when I got here. My whole thing was it don't matter. It don't matter if you don't like me. You have to help me. I didn't come here for you to like me. I don't go to the emergency room hoping they like me and the doctor and the nurses will assist me. We do share in a general way what it used to be like, what happened, and what it's like now. There's a reason for that. It is the depth and weight. It is the language of the heart. It is the music that I have found. It is the music that I have found in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. It is the only thing that has ever captured my attention. No social worker, no teacher, no fresh air fund, no mentorship program could have ever gotten my attention the way you have. And I think I'm going to go backwards because if I don't, I'm going to get caught up. I'm amazed that I am sober. I am truly a miracle. I tell people, I'm a miracle. I'm a miracle. I'm a miracle. I'm a miracle. I'm a miracle. And that this program does not work. Nobody can. A miracle is something that is unexplainable. And I'm a miracle. You cannot explain why I'm standing before you here sober. There isn't enough facts that you can put together. Enough reasoning to determine why is it that I'm a miracle. I am so grateful that this girl that came from where she came from is sober today. 365 days. Put some years together. Got 19 plus years. My sobriety date is March 29, 1990. Damn! That's crazy! That's insane. The funny thing about that is, I just have today. If you be new, if you have a day or two, I'm one drink away from you. Just like that. Just like that. It don't matter what I did yesterday. It don't matter what I'm going to do tomorrow. It only matters what I do today. All I have is 24 hours. I have a daily reprieve. Just like you, if you be new. The only thing that happens around here is that I get to tap into a source of power that separates me just a little bit further from that drink. But let me unplug and see what happens. It's like I ain't never put no days together. I just came back from Minnesota. My brother's in Minnesota. I found out that his cancer has come back. Stage four. In the bone marrow. Literally, I got off the plane from Minnesota from being in the hospital with him. Went home and changed my suitcase and got back on a plane and came here. Stopped at my mother's and told her about my brother. My mother has Alzheimer's. So she didn't really remember. So by the time I got to the gate to come here, she thought I was still in Minnesota. She forgot I was just at her house. So I'm here. When I leave here, I have to go to Phoenix. My father has Parkinson's. And emphysema. He's not doing really well. And I have to help take care of him for a little bit. And then we get back to Minnesota. My brother is a single parent with two children, 11 and 7. They love their titi very much. I keep thinking about my nephew. When I called, I called for the ambulance and stuff to get my brother. He called me screaming. He was screaming in pain. And I'm all the way in California. And then I remember telling my nephew, I'm not sure if I'm going to come out there. I'll check with your dad to see if he wants me to come out. And he was like, I want you to come out. I need you here. And I said, I'm on my way. So I'm just kind of filled with that a little bit. You know what I mean? I got that going on. My life. I've really been an experience. Sometimes, you know, I have some women or I sponsor men as well. I got people who tell me, you know what, Teresa, I want what you have. And I'd be like, are you willing to do what I've done? I've done some things. You know, some people get nervous and scare off the newcomer. I'm grateful when I got here. People were honest with me. Nobody promised me no better roses. They didn't tell me this was all going to be great. And so all I know how to do is be honest. And if you've been new, I hope you listen to the similarities and not the differences. And you ask yourself a couple of questions like, that happened to me. I felt that way too. And more important, perhaps this program can work for me. I've come a long way. My life was hard before I got here. And my life has been a journey the last 19 years. For whatever reason, I signed some intense soul contract that to this day, I cannot figure out what happened. What that's all about. My sponsor gladly reminds me that it's not even about me. So check that out. I can't even like sob over it. Everything I go through has everything to do with you. In some way, my experience can benefit others. So I've been helping a lot of people. I got a lot of issues. We were talking about that at lunch. I have a lot of sponsees. And some people think that that's, you know, something great, something to be proud of. I'm like, y'all need to read the big book. The big book says when all else fails, work with another alcoholic. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . What's your name? What you doing? Come here. I got to talk to you. What's going on? She's like, man, we're going out for coffee. Something. Let's go. Three days later, they be like, I swear, Teresa, I won't drink. No, we're going on the bill story again. I need help. That's the truth. I came to you very damaged. Came to you very, very damaged. Alcohol and Synonymous is like a home for me. This is my family. Talk about having a new lease on life. Everything has been a new experience. Because, you see, for me, drinking was to breathe. Because alcohol was given to me in my mother's womb. So I'm an alcoholic from fetus. Now, I know we like to be, you know, unique. But I didn't conjure that one up. For years, I blamed my mother in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. Because many of you had the ability to take responsibility for your drinking. And I just couldn't wrap my head on how I could take responsibility for choosing to drink as a fetus. Talk about willing to go to any lengths. To find a sense of compassion and forgiveness, I had to go beyond the womb. To see what agreement I made before I even got here. To take responsibility for my drinking. I had to go into a sweat lodge and all this stuff. I had to go past lives. I had to go through all this nonsense. Y'all just get to go. I started drinking at 14 because I was uncomfortable and that was it. I mean, like, that's nice. My sponsees laugh at me. I feel bad for them. It's very difficult to run too much past me. I'm not that sensitive. I'm like, until you beat me on that one, I ain't feeling you. Sorry. I got you beat on that one. They be like that. One sponsee recently said, she had gotten cancer. And she called me and she said, the doctor says I'm dying. I went, alright. So what you gonna do today? We all gonna die. I might die before you. Can I get a little sensitivity? We all got one day at a time. No, but my life was hard. So I looked at my relationship. When I got here, you told me to examine my relationship. I mean, my accent is strong, right? Oh my God. Okay. That Puerto Rican is coming out. I'm in Florida. I'm like, hey, you know. No. Because in California, you don't have it that much. As soon as I got here, I've been talking about it. I saw Cuban coffee. I was like, ah, yeah. And in the room, I was so happy. I have no idea. You know that little radio? It had a Latin button. I was like, ah. Anyway. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. I was like, ah. Anyway. Us Puerto Ricans are very proud people. We wear a flag everywhere. My cousin always, I always say that. My cousin goes, we still don't know that our national flag is not a car ornament. Oh my goodness. We're proud people, boy. And I was telling them. I was like, ah. We're from Але誌. This American people on the Bilbao Island, bro. I was like, ah. I mean, it's a blessing that I met you guys. Yes, I missed you guys. No, no. I was embrace you, but it wasSir – since every I come here, I met you conversation, because it made me feel good. Exactly. Ok. All that and finding my family. That's how our bond have cultivated. It ballet boy had real long long necks. When I don't have erected, it wasn't real – that wasn't my vaccin. It wasn't%. parent. But I said if people had squeaky feet, I would see them. He had preacher, OUT. I haven't been hit in the school, but in college. I've seen a lot and heard of it lots of times. And when I was in the hospital with my brother, my cousin called and said that my cousin died right here in Orlando. And so I was like, well, I'm going to be in Florida. And so Kathy is going to help me go see my family. I was supposed to go today, and so I'm going to go tomorrow and bring flowers. And, man. Jeez Louise. Everybody's freaking out. Guys walking through. Everybody starts having panic attacks when there's a guy walks into a woman's thing. Like we're a secret society or something. We ain't talking about them. There's some woman's meeting. You ever seen that? And the guy walks in. Like, woman's meeting. Like, what if he's going to drink? I'd be like, hold on a minute. That guy might need a meeting. I'd be like, are you all right? Anyway. So anyway, I got to see my cousin. But, you know, I'm thinking about my life and examining my relationship with alcohol. Things have, it's amazing how more and more is revealed. Thus we grow. I had told someone today, and I've been sharing about this a lot, that if I was guaranteed, guaranteed, 100% guaranteed, that I can go back to that life and be completely oblivious, I would probably do it. The reason why I keep coming back is because I am no longer afforded that luxury. I'm not going to be able to do it. I'm going to be able to do it when I have someone else around me. When I look at my relationship with alcohol, as dark and as ugly as it may seem, it was my life. And it worked. It was comfortable. It was my reality. I didn't question it. I didn't ever dream of having anything different from it. I don't remember crying over it. I was completely detoxified. detached, and disconnected from any idea that the way I was living was inappropriate, unhealthy, dysfunctional, or abusive. He says, I've been drinking since a child. Alcohol gave me the oxygen to live this thing called life. Because when my cousin came in the room and took my virginity at the age of five, alcohol said, it don't matter. It's going to be all right. Let him do what he got to do. Clean yourself up. Put a smile on your face. Go have another drink. And act like nothing happened. For all the times that I was gang raped, pistol whipped, sodomized, I always slept with strangers. They took turns. That's the house I grew in. That's the life that I grew up in. So what? Alcohol said, so what? So what men and women are beating on you, spitting on you, having sex with you. That's my life. That's what I grew up in. And you know, when I look back on it, I don't remember. I remember going, oh my God, this is a horrible life. Alcohol said, if nobody loves you, I love you. You don't need nobody. I'll take care of you. Don't worry about nothing. There's no sweat off your back. When I got pregnant, I didn't even know it. Alcohol allowed me not even to feel it. Alcohol helped me that one. That's what I'm saying. That baby went down the toilet. I was just thinking about that today. I got up. I went. I was taking a dump. Being on the toilet. We all do that, no? Okay. Right? I'm in the toilet. I get up. I flush. And it hit me. Just like that, I would flush a baby down the toilet. Wouldn't think twice about it. Alcohol allowed me to go, just clean yourself up, flush, and let's go. And I would go outside and talk to you like nothing happened. Now for one moment that I stand there and go, Oh my God, I just lost my baby in the toilet. I would just keep talking to you. I'm walking down the street with my cousin. He gets shot. Oh well, I can't hang out with him no more. I remember just looking at him going, Damn, Louie. You know what I mean? What's up, man? Get up. I didn't stay for the ambulance. I didn't ask too many questions. Police. I just walked away. I put enough people who all beat in closets. My playgrounds are shooting galleries, crack houses, bars, and clubs. I love the smell of the rug, the red of the leather. I grew up in a bar. I lived in there. That's my home. Nothing wrong with that place. My uncles, my aunts, everybody in my family are alcoholics and addicts. All of them. Whether they're nodding, whether they have ampule legs from kidney failure, cirrhosis of the liver. That's my family. Everything that was happening in the projects in New York was the same thing going on in the mountains in Puerto Rico. I just think back. I never questioned that life. I went to Catholic school. I put a uniform on and a smile on my face. I said the Our Father and the Hail Mary. I even did confession on Saturdays. I sang in the choir on Sunday. That don't mean I had a relationship with God. That's not the world I come from. Alcohol was my friend. It was my companion. It was my buddy. It was everything. Alcohol allowed me. It allowed me to live this thing called life. I never understood why I was here. Why I was in this world. But the only thing that allowed any of it to make sense was alcohol. And how can alcohol and I dance for 25 years? Oh, we danced. I'm an alcoholic because I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. I like the effect. It's not that deep. I love the way it's written in the book because it's simple and it's clear. And when I'm restless, irritable, and discontent, I find that ease and comfort that comes immediately with the first few drinks. And even though I may admit that it's injurious, it don't matter. I'm a real alcoholic. I'm a real alcoholic. I'm a real alcoholic. I'm a real alcoholic. The consequences don't get my attention. I tell people I'm not the kind of alcoholic that had too many martoonies, slept with a stranger, ran my car into a tree and go, maybe I should go to AA. I don't think so. That's not me. I'll blame the world and everything else in it. But I'm not going to blame it on alcohol. Nobody got in between me and my booze. If you don't like the way I'm drinking, if you don't like the way I'm living, then you need to step off. I don't share. I don't share. I never share. I don't share my booze with nobody. This is mine. I used to give the example and I used to teach DUI classes. I used to tell them, look, I smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. That's 20 cigarettes in a pack. If I give you one, that leaves me 19. That's a dilemma. Okay? That's an example of what kind of alcoholic I am. That spares out on stuff like that. You know what I mean? Now I'm one short. Where's that one coming from? You know what I'm saying? So, no, you don't get a cigarette. Things like that were important. I wasn't one that I want to buy rounds for everybody and I need to be social and go to clubs and all this nonsense. I drank in my house. By myself. So I didn't have to share. I didn't know I was covering up shame or guilt or pity. None of that. These are adjectives that I received when I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. Alcohol served me well. I'm not going to deny that. For all the things that I've been through in my life, people say you should write a movie. Teresa, you should do a movie. They have a bunch of them out there. At no time in my life did I ever think that my experience could benefit others. With all the sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, spiritual abuse, I never thought that one day that was going to help somebody else. Ever. Alcohol and I danced the dance. Until one day, alcohol betrayed me. Me. Me. When it told me that it would never stop loving me, it did. When it told me that it would always be there for me, it wasn't. Especially when I needed it the most. I have always lived in incomprehensible demoralization. That was my life. But what is a drunk like me supposed to do when one day she wakes up with a stranger as usual and she notices? Uh-oh. We in trouble now. I'm sitting on the bar stool and I'm drinking. And I'm looking over at you and you still ugly? Really? Oh, man. That's scary, yo. Oh. For a drunk like me, all those things that had always been for 20-something years of my life, 24 years of my life was still happening. And now all of a sudden I was present for them. Now all of a sudden the consequences began to matter. That's all. That's what happened to me. I woke up. I've heard people in the room say alcohol still worked for me. I'd be like, are you here? What you doing here? Are you kidding me? You better go back out there and have one for me. Alcohol stopped working. It stopped doing what it said it was always going to do. And where is a drunk like me supposed to go when alcohol don't work? Alcohol don't work for me. Alcohol don't work for me no more. How come it's my higher power? What am I supposed to do now? I'm emotionally retarded. I got no coping skills. I don't know how to love. I don't know how to make love. I don't know how to communicate. I don't know how to bathe. I don't know how to dress. I don't know how to do nothing. And so I'm stuck. I look in the mirror and I see somebody ugly looking at me. I ain't never seen that ugly girl look at me before. I ain't never seen her before. How long was I that ugly? I ain't never seen her before. I never noticed that. And I know I must have looked ugly. You know, especially when you come out of the club real late. You know, like the next morning. Anyway. We look scary when we come out the next morning. We look good going in. You come out, it's like, oh my God. Oh, I was so scared. The world as I had known it just flipped the switch on me. And now I feel dirty. I hadn't felt dirty before. I feel this thing you guys talk about remorse and shame and guilt. I hadn't felt that before. And I was scared. I saw the people walking around. They were walking around really fast. Seemed like the world was moving really fast. And I couldn't keep up. And I didn't understand what happened. I told people I wanted the good old days to come back. I wanted the good old days where I could get sodomized and gang raped and pistol whipped and take a drink and fix my hair, put on my makeup and go back to the club and do it all over again. I wanted to be a good old girl. I wanted to be a good old girl. Those are the good old days for me. My life was hard. And alcohol made it all right. And now my life was hard and alcohol wasn't making it all right. Mommy had always been gone and now I noticed that I really didn't have a mother. And daddy had always been gone. And I looked around. And I noticed I didn't have a daddy. It was like all of a sudden at the age of 24 I'm noticing stuff that I had never noticed before. I was like, where's my mother? Do I have a mother? What do you mean my father's been gone since I was two? I didn't understand. And who is this man that I'm with? Pregnant again? This baby won't fall out in the toilet and the floor like the other babies. And it was doing something weird to my body, too. It was doing strange things. And I didn't like what it was doing to my body. And I was waiting for it to fall out in the toilet and it wasn't falling out in the toilet. And I remember I was pushing and everything and it wouldn't come out. And I didn't know what was going on. I think about those times today, I feel like I'm talking about myself in third person. Like I'm talking to you about a stranger, about a story about some girl that I heard of, or a novel that I read. Not too long ago, I went to New York City, and I'm walking around, I'm going to the old neighborhoods, and the schools that I went to, and the blocks that I walked on, and I called my sponsor, and I was like, oh my goodness, I have a memory. I know I went to school here, but emotionally I'm not attached to this situation. It was tripping me out. I remember I lived in this building. You know what I mean? I remember I lived here. Did I live here? Who was that girl who lived here? Some part of me thought that maybe this baby can have a different life. I don't know where that came from. I remember welcoming death. Now is when I called death into my life. I invited death into my space. Because I can't live like this another day. I can't do this no more. This I cannot do. Because I still got people on my body, doing what they do, still in the situations that I'm in, and I'm present. I don't like it. I can't. I can't change it. I don't have the ability to. I'm drinking, and I'm not getting tight. I love how Dr. Bob says that. I can't get tight. Now I'm trying the different combinations. I'm changing. And it ain't working. It's not working. It's not working. I'm reaching outside of me. I'm coming up short. I'm reaching outside of me, and I'm coming up short. I'm calling on death. Death ain't coming fast enough. I'm regretting every breath that I take. I had a contract out for my life. I went out looking for him. He didn't even come get me. I say I'm very dramatic, like that movie West Side Story. Come and get me, Gino. Get me too, Gino. Gino. I remember I went to the bar. Where normally he's at. I wanted to tell him I'm here. Take me. One of his people were there, and I told him I'm looking for him. I'm here, you know. And he said I'll go get him. We'll be back. Wait right here. I waited in that bar for two hours. Two hours. I sat in that bar waiting two hours, waiting for that man for any moment to walk in the door and take my life. And this man did not come. And for every drink that I had sitting there waiting for him, it did not change. And I knew I was waiting, and he wasn't coming fast enough. That's my bottom. That's scary. Talk about desperation, isolation, frustration, bewilderment. I didn't have the balls to take my own life. I swore that I was going to end up paraplegic somewhere. In the same condition. And I crawled into a church. Bless you. And I said a prayer in this church. A prayer that I had no idea was going to change my life. That anybody was listening. To a God that I didn't believe in, I didn't trust, and I didn't look towards or look to. I prayed to one day. Perhaps this prayer was different than any other. Perhaps this prayer was far more sincere than any of the other ones I had prayed for. And I remember when I sat in that church. And I asked God to allow me to feel the peace that I felt in that church, inside of me. I remember that moment, and I don't even want to forget it. When I got here, you told me, don't you ever forget your last drunk. Ever. That if you be new and you think about it, you get so sick, you just want to throw up. Because when I remember this day, in this moment, I run into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous. I run to pick up the phone. It was horrible. That day was bad. To me, it was worse than any other day. Enough for me to crawl into a church and beg the way I did. For some help. And I just wanted a moment for my head to shut up. And for my skin to stop turning and for my stomach to... You know what I mean? That's all I'm saying. That's all I wanted for a minute. And I got picked up and brought all the way 3,000 miles to California and dropped off. I had no idea that prayer was going to change my life. And it was almost as though I was calling on death and maybe some part of me feels like I died. That girl died. That the invitation that I was asking God to take my life took my life. Because He took that life. From me. He did. He took that life. When I detoxed on that Greyhound bus and I was sick. And when I arrived in downtown Los Angeles on March 29, 1990, I had a size 1 pair of pants, two pants underneath, a huge sweatshirt, four months pregnant, with a dead baby in my belly. I didn't have a heartbeat by the time I got to California. And my mother picked me up. I have a mother who's sober and a cousin. Somewhere in there they were the attraction. They had plants, a seed. And when I was sick and tired of being sick and tired, that's where I knew where to go. And my mother dropped me off in the rooms. To the people who had saved her life. And she left. My mother left me there. She had to. I can't listen to my mother. I could manipulate her. I could play off of her guilt. I could use her. She can't help me. And you people told her that. I don't know what that must have been like for her. But she left me alone. With the very people that had saved her life. I got sober. I got sober in Crenshaw, Alano in 9604. I still say that's my home. And I'm very proud of the breed that I come from. I really am. I'm grateful for all the old timers. I want to thank all the old timers for my life and my sobriety. I still want what you got. I still want what you have. Let's do. I still need you. I look to the old timers. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. I still need you. And I look to the old timers for guidance. I look to the simplicity of how you wear this program. How you walk in it. How you sit so calmly and peacefully in the chair. I watch that. There's a sense of spiritual maturity that you have with yourselves and each other. Because there are some old timers that are grumpy and mean and assholes. They'd be like, you know, yeah, that's Sarah. And I learned from them, you know, all right, let's leave Sarah alone, you know. And since I've been here 19 plus years, let me tell you guys something. Oh, boy. This thing called life, living life on life terms has been an interesting thing. I had to learn how to do everything from the beginning. I came in here emotionally an infant. I didn't know anything about the world and the people in it. The very first thing that alcoholics said to me, the first thing that Alcoholics Anonymous gave me was the possibility of living might not be so bad. It wasn't that I didn't have to drink anymore. I was angry at booze. I ran to you because my best friend just turned his back on me. And this was the last house on the block. And I knew that I couldn't turn to alcohol anymore. And I knew that. I wasn't helping me anymore. And I had nothing else. And this was a life and death errand. And I was very clear that if you people didn't have anything to help me, somebody had to blow my brains out. And I'm grateful for the old timers who spoon fed me, talk to me the way they talk to me, to get my attention, to get my attention. They spoke with depth and weight. I always think about Miss Iona because, and I've been talking about her lately. She's passed on. I miss her so much. And Marcy. There's so many little things that they would say to me and do that made such a big impact. And I've been thinking about Iona because I remember I was really worried because there was a lot of you. And I didn't know how was I going to sleep with everybody. You know, because that's where I come from. Right? And so I was really worried and I went to Miss Iona and I said, how are we going to do this? You know what I'm saying? There's a lot of people. And generally, I don't mind doing groups and taking, you know, all this stuff. I've worked out, you know, I had like a science, you know, let me do five now. And anyway. And I was like, wow, this is going to be a lot of fun. It's going to be intense. So I said, I asked Miss Iona, how, you know, how do you do this really? How do I sleep with all these people? And, you know, it's just amazing the things that we tell newcomers and we tell people makes a difference. And she said, now, baby, I love when they call me baby. I do. I love when they call me baby. Then I was somebody's baby. You know what I mean? I get so emotional. They would go, baby. I don't know. That would do something to me. I tell you, I'm sick of the most. The little things they get me. And she said, now, baby. I don't sleep with everybody in AA. You don't have to. That's what happened. You got a baby. That's what you get, naturally. So I was like, I don't need to. Yeah. What's up here? She told me something. So I am, personally. Well, I'm happy for the rich. I was thinking, wow, her's one kind. Love what you've done on social media. I didn't think she was joking, you know? And so I held on to that. And when people would try to talk to me, or I say rap, sometimes I don't hear that word no more, but rap to me, maybe it's the East Coast thing, I don't know. There's somebody trying to talk to you to date, whatever, anyway. And they try to talk to me, man or woman or whatever, I would be like, you slept with me, sayona. And she told me, I don't have to sleep with you. People used to be like, this girl's crazy. So I didn't have a lot of problems in that area. They gave me the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous, told me it was blueprints for living. It was a blueprint for my life. I put down the booze, and I put down the booze, and I put down the booze, and I picked up the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. That had new tools. And I had to be armed with facts about myself. And they gave me these tools, and that these tools were designed for living. And we were joking at the table, I was telling Angie, my sponsee, she makes fun of me, and she always tells people, oh, she's ESL. English is her second language. It takes her a minute. So I take everything literal. So, like, what was the lady talking about a hook? Where's she at? I was like, hook? What? What's going on? I get a little lost sometimes in certain conversations. You're like, what? Okay. And if these steps were designed for living, I needed to learn how to apply them to my life. Not do them like exercises, not hand them in like a term paper, but I was to learn how to apply them to my life. I love that. I love to watch some new people clapping. They don't know why. They're like... One day I'll get it. Anyway. It's all the difference. Anyway, I like joking on this. I was grateful for my sponsor. They gave me a sponsor. I didn't pick one. They gave me one. I'm grateful for that. I'm a bad picker. I always say, I would have picked like the oldest lady in the corner in the oxygen tank who couldn't talk. I'd be like, you, you be my sponsor. You got $10? They were like, no, this lady is your sponsor. You identify with her. She's your sponsor. Listen to her. That's it. They gave me this woman. She's a sponsor. And my sponsor, I love talking about my first sponsor. I love her today. I dearly. I talked to her the other day. We talk often. Um, but she was funny. She had a Mohawk. She had a, she wore a glove like Michael Jackson. She had a key ring in her ear. She changed her name all the time. Like, I don't know. Right. Wasn't she changing her name? It was always. She had a dog. She had a diamond, all these names. But anyway, one every week it was a different name. I was like, all right, she was a poet, a rapper, a activist, you know, kinds of things going on. But all I needed to know is that woman was sober. That's all I needed to know. That woman was sober and she had a working knowledge of the steps in the book. That's all I needed to know. That's all I needed to know. I know that she sat or she stood with a sense of integrity and dignity more so than what I had. I saw her live through things and walk through things in life that I would not believe that I could. I remember there was a time she was homeless and she had a daughter and somebody came over to bring over groceries. And I remember looking at her. I didn't look at her and go, oh, that's embarrassing. How dare this woman sponsor me? She doesn't even have her own finances in order. I was amazed. I was amazed. That she sat there so proud to be of service to me and to help me in an abandoned building getting groceries from somebody. I was impressed. She sat there in a way that I was like, that's beautiful. I want that. How do you do that? How do you live through things in your life and be okay in your own skin? How do you no longer be restless, irritable and discontent? Where do you find your ease and comfort that I could no longer find in the bottle? And she began to teach me how to tap into a source of power. I do not apologize for my relationship with God today. I don't. To nobody. Nobody. Be agnostic. Be atheist. We got chapters for that. Work it out. That's none of my business. Nobody concerned themselves with that with me. They shared their experience and my experience is that I've tapped into a source of power. I call it God. It just is easier. It works for me. But they told me that I must find a power greater than myself. And all I needed to know that there was one and I wasn't it. It's not that deep. So they told me, not that deep. Stop it. They kept it very simple. And where was I to find this power? To the steps. This bless you. Then I just do the steps. They have somebody gave me a cup at a conference. It says, just do it. Because that's my thing. I go, just do it. Oh, shut up and just do it. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Because that's how they talk to me. I'm grateful that they were more about action and more action and more action that we didn't sit down and process and go through all these changes. Sometimes I get caught up because you know, I have an open mind and you know, I want to be considering the person's new and I'm sitting in after a while. I'm like, what the hell are we talking about? Going on, man. You got me believing you. I'm like, really? What's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? You know, you kind of making sense. I'm like, oh Lord. I'm like, man, just don't drink before the meeting, during the meeting and after the meeting. Like Lila says, right? Eat a banana and any page in the big book will do. Jeez Louise. Goodness sake. They were like, and the transoms and the narzons with the dynamic of the brain. And I was like, wow, what's happening? I'm glad they didn't talk to me like that. You don't drink before the meeting, during the meeting and after the meeting. I just do the work. I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? I'm like, what's going on? And after we get, whatever comes from the POC, we chat with them. All about nickel. I'm like, man, I come to you with a perfect balance how you would like to chat with me. Is everyone here? How would I like to Yaz Hip and Joe? William Hando. Brian E Albert. Anyway, you know, she got them, got a lot of YouTubers that are not , like mine. So she was like, you know, like the one that had grief how many times you want about that? And that's what we were talking about. Right? Experience. You have to do the work to get there. Twelve is a spiritual awakening. We can't talk about it. You got to get to twelve. Why are we talking about it? You haven't gotten to twelve. That's how they talk. Why are we dialoguing about spiritual dynamics? You haven't even finished two. You haven't even come to belief. And you're getting all deep about spiritual awakening. Come on. I'm grateful they said, look, just do the work and see what happens. And that's what happened. I heard in meetings I love, I come from a woman meeting Friday, I mean, on Saturday at five o'clock. And the women just got up there and talked about how they were living life on life terms one day at a time, applying these steps and these traditions and trusting in this power. And I learned from their experience. I didn't even share for a year. A lot of women in my whole group never even heard me share until one day they came to a conference and I was at a podium. That's like Teresa. And most of it I was gurgitating half of the stuff they said. Because I've been listening. And doing. An amazing thing happens. Like something's going on in my life, I make a phone call. I call my sponsor. I call somebody. I have tapped into the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous. The fellowship. My sponsor told me earlier on, get phone numbers. Talk to people. Get their number. Go out with people. My reliance ain't on my sponsor. Never has been. And it wasn't that she didn't have the answers. From what I learned from my sponsor, the very first thing that I really began to dance with my sponsor was I learned about intimacy. They told me, you ain't got to dance with everybody, but you need to dance with somebody. And I began dancing with this woman. And that was the first time in my life that I was dancing with somebody and it just didn't matter. That I could be whoever I was. I could do whatever. I could do whatever I had done and it was alright. And she could share with me what she had done, where she had been and it was alright. And we were doing this together. It was about one drunk talking to another. How do we get another 24 hours with this disease that's cunning, baffling, and powerful? I'm grateful that I have not been confused. That this is a life and death error. The disease ain't no joke, man. It don't play. I'm so grateful. I haven't been here going, do you think it's deadly? No, I think it's deadly. Do you really think it'll hurt? No, that thing hurts. It causes a lot of pain. It bephrases, it does cause a lot of pain. I used to feel that the disease was waiting for me outside in the bushes from the meeting. I told you I'm sicker than most. I was scared to leave the rooms. Because I knew it was waiting for me outside and this was the only safe place. And the moment we finished praying and we dropped our hands, it was going to come and get me. And I used to live in those chairs. And I would stay in the meeting and the next meeting and I would go with you to the meeting. After the meeting, I would follow people. That's why I said, I don't care if you don't like me. Where are you going for coffee? I'm going with you. I was laughing when another woman at home said, you're going to have me cracking up. She's like, Teresa, you know, ain't nobody really like you, but you be right there. I'm like, what's up? Where are you going? I need help. I had a sponsee. He kept talking about all the other sponsees. I told him, you know, you forget that everybody's in my living room. That's number one. Okay. Let's say you're right. They're all crazy. You're all in my house. That's number one. Number two, this is gross. I told him, the women in my home group, you should have seen them when they first walked in. And if you look at them now, you think they're crazy? You should have seen them when they first walked in. I'd be like, this is gross. This is gross. Don't talk about her. This is different. Should have been here 15 years ago. She was scary. And they used to have her take me to beans. I used to be scared of Carla. We'd be like, Carla, take Teresa to beans. I'd be like, oh, God. And they used to have her give her the coffee commitment. We were a mess. She had the coffee commitment. You go over there for coffee, you're like, what you want? You'd be like, coffee? Coffee? I'm scared. Chasing people down. I just love the stories that we have. You know, they say there's a nut for every screw. Thank God we're not all crazy on the same day. My sponsors always tell me, don't look in the rooms for sick people to act well. It definitely helped me with the character defect of self-righteousness and judgment. Some are sicker than others. I'm one of them. I have a seat. I get to be here. Thank God the criteria on me wasn't that I was sane and all proper and all that. I wouldn't have a seat in Alcoholics Anonymous. I used to watch people come in the rooms pushing a cart just for some donuts and cookies. I watched stuff like that. And we would say, hey, how you doing? Good to see you. Want some coffee? And I used to know. I noticed that that was the only time that person got a hug or a smile, you know? And they would keep coming. And we would just give them coffee and donuts. And then one day you see them take a chip, you know? And then you stick around. You see them take a year cake. I remember Marcy gave me a candle. This woman, Marcy, she was really something. She's always saying, I'm here for the retreads and the relapses and the newcomers. And I remember she gave me a candle. And she said, you will put this on your year cake. She didn't say maybe, kind of, sort of. She said, you will. And I did. It's the little things, you know? I held on to that candle. And Marcy gave me my cake with that year cake. You know, with that candle. Like I said, I've had to dance with the women. I had to go to the women and tell them, I see a beauty in you that I don't see in me. Can you show me? I was like, that's why I don't like you. I see a strength in you that I don't see in me. Can you show me? That's why I'm uncomfortable around you. Can you teach me how to dress? I like the way you dress. I think it's pretty. Can you show me how to dress like that? Can you? Talk about smashing the ego, boy. I had to learn about my body. The innocence of that first love and that experience I never had. And I had to learn about breasts and, you know, your vagina. And I had to learn about all those things. I even had to take, like, a nap. I had to take a parenting class to see how to, like, parent, you know, to understand what that was. My sponsor kept me very busy and doing a lot of inside work. And I did a lot of inventory. And I learned about forgiveness. And that these people were sick, too. And there's a paragraph in Resentments that I've always held down to. And it almost seemed to empower me immediately. And I learned that I was a woman. And when it talks about how we squander the hours. And that people actually had the ability to kill. And for some reason, when I read that, I knew that for the first time in my life, these people weren't going to keep raping me over and over again. And that I finally had something that was going to free me from the bondage of myself. And from all the things that have been done to me. All the scrapes and the bruises and the punches and the spits and the hits and the sodomization. And because alcohol wasn't there to make it all right. Somebody needed to. Something needed to. And reaching outside myself wasn't going to do it. A person, place, thing, money, property, prestige wasn't going to fix it. That it was an inside job. And then I had to go to the one place. I had never gone before. And I was willing to do it. Because I wanted freedom. I heard the words that you spoke around here. You talk about freedom. And I wanted that. And I didn't want to squander the hours. And I didn't want these people to continue to kill me over and over and over again. In my mind and in my spirit and in my body. And they're not even around. And I continued to do the work. I continued to do the work. And I have done the uncomfortable until it became comfortable. It took me nine years to make amends to my mother. Oh, that was a tough one. I love sharing that at women's meetings. I was willing. You told me to remain willing. I remember my sponsor gave me permission to be angry. And even though they say anger is not a crime. It's something we cannot afford. I had never been angry. My whole life. In those years, it wasn't like I just refused not to make amends. There was some more work I needed to do. And I was willing to do the work necessary to bring me to the place that when I went to my mother to make amends, that was exactly what I was doing. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. I needed help. Because if I had not made this amends to my mother, I was going to continuously see the world through those eyes. This is a disease of perception. And my disease is centered in my thinking. And my thinking can be really warped. And this woman told me a story. When she was done, she looked at me and she said, What's your mother's story? And I said, I beg your pardon? And she said, tell me your mother's story. And I couldn't. And I couldn't. And I went back to California, and I knocked on my mother's door. You know, the funny thing is, my mother thought I was going there to tell her that I had finally made a decision that I did not want her in my life. And she was willing to accept that. And I knocked on my mother's door, and I looked at my mother, and I had told her as arrogant of me to think that you should be something other than who you are. For I have now walked in your shoes. And I do not know the depth of your pain, for I don't know your story. And my life changed. I began to see the world different. And it doesn't mean that my mother and I danced through the tulips. And all is well. We began to build a relationship. Today I take care of my mother who has Alzheimer's. And I have a lot of illness in my family. And I take care of my brother, and my mom, and my dad, and then my uncle, who is my biggest abuser. He had been telling me he was going to die since I was eight years old. And I was his beneficiary and all that, and now this time it was true. Oh my goodness, and my uncle. And I danced the dance before he took his last breath. I'd rather do some stuff around here, boy. And I was writing down and saying, wow, it's amazing how sometimes these resentments come back up, or situations, or like my friend Sandy says, our character defects are like a show. You know, they go backstage and change an outfit and come back out. Yeah. But what just had come up for me recently, what was interesting, was just that I'm taking care of the very people who weren't really in my life when I was growing up. And there was a lot of pain, and there was a lot of misery. And what they imposed on me, and I don't live in a place of victim consciousness. It just is what it is. I own what's mine. I own what's mine, and I'm clear of what's yours. And today I get to be of service to them. And you know what fills me up, and what gets me so emotional, is that I don't do it to shove it in their face. I wish I could. I don't do it to prove a point. I don't do it to get back at them. I don't do it to show them. I'm just doing it. And that's what gets me. You know what I mean? I'm just doing it. Damn it. You know, I want to like... What happened to her? What did AA do to her? Jack me up. I've been in a relationship for 19 years. I don't know where I'm at in this relationship. Originally, I didn't know my flavor. I had to learn what it was. Not recently. I don't... I don't want to be in it. I don't want to be in any relationship. And I love her dearly. But I don't want to do it. I'm walking through that. And I'm doing the work. Because that's all I know how to do. I know how to put one hand in God and one hand in Alcoholics Anonymous. And I allow you to be what you be. And all I know how to do is to be honest. And do those things that are uncomfortable. And if my sponsor tells me to be honest with her, then I'm honest with her. And I tell her. And if she's upset and disappointed, she gets to be upset and disappointed. She has a sponsor. She has staff. She has these rooms. And we still get to trust. She's one drunk and I'm a drunk. And we get to do this together. And whatever, no matter what, we don't take a drink. And we go help others. I'm of service a lot. My house is like central office. It's like an AA meeting with no trusted servants. I got coffee going on all the time. I got coffee mugs. But there's nobody there, you know, to be secretary, throw out the garbage. You know, those kinds. Those kinds of things, right? So it gets a little insane. The phone's always ringing. The phone, the cell phone. I travel. I'm a priestess in my tradition. I have religious obligations. It's amazing to see my family proud on the legacy that I'm the only one left to continue after so many generations. And sometimes I get overwhelmed. And sometimes I feel that it's a bit much. But for the grace of God, here I am. You know what I'm saying? Thank you. And it's not even about me. Check that out. All I know how to do is give it away. I don't even know how not to. Somebody mentioned the speakers in Cleveland are entertainment. I don't know nothing about that. I'm not here to entertain anybody. I don't even see this as a gig. I don't know. I just know that it's one drunk talking to another and that I get to give back. I went to a lot of conferences, like the Miracle Women, and when I was new and there was nothing like hearing a woman up there giving me hope for one more day. Just one more day. Is it possible? Is it possible that I can have integrity and grace and beauty and not need a drink? Is it possible that maybe my body can be sacred and belong to me and I don't have to have self-hatred and despise? Is it possible? And so that's what I have to do. I have to show up here and tell you, yes, it's possible because somebody did that for me. That's all I know. I don't know about making you laugh, about making you cry. All I know how to do is, this is Teresa. This is Teresa the drunk. This is what happened to her and look at what she's becoming because I don't know what's going to happen. Check with me next year. It could be something different. There's always, it's always changing. All I've learned is God is. God is infinite. I will never know God. That's why I love that it tells me a God of my own understanding based on my level of consciousness. I'll never know God. Can't know something that's infinite, unmeasured. And my relationship with God is always changing as I understand it. And today God and I are doing a very interesting dance. I'm no longer saying that I'm about his plans. Because he is, it just is. If I continue to clean house, I get to be a vessel and I am a channel of his peace and of his love. And that's all it is. And I get to represent the beauty of what Alcoholics Anonymous can do. And for that, I am responsible. And it really is that simple. That wherever I go, it's attraction, not promotion. Wherever I walk, it's not so much what I say. They used to say, but how are you living? How am I living? That wherever I go, you can see the beauty of God. You can see the beauty of God. You can see the beauty of the sunlight of the spirit despite circumstance, conditions, situations. Even through my mistakes and my faults, you can see that God is, and it just is, but she's sober. Thank you so much for allowing me to share.