This evening's meeting was unusually intense. A man came that had relapsed after two months of sobriety and he had taken a drink today. He was clearly drunk and shared for a long time until he was cut off by the person who chaired the meeting. There was a lot of love in that room tonight. Other people shared about how they appreciated his story, that they needed to hear it and they also talked about their own relapses. They gave him support and a big welcome back to the rooms (which is amazing). While he was talking, however, I struggled with my feelings. I didn't feel love. I cringed and felt very uncomfortable.
When thinking about it I realise that this is probably a reflection of the fact that I am only 25 days into recovery myself. Also full of character defects while not aware of a fraction of them. Maybe his story and state scared me because I haven't even reached a month yet. Self, self, self. I don't know. It was confusing and educational at the same time. I'm glad I experienced it but while it was going on I just wanted to disappear - I guess I didn't feel as safe as I usually do in the rooms.
But that's just me. For now.