Manifestation Diaries : The Divine Meeting Part 1

Two years had passed since the accident (not accident) happened. If I could describe it to you in one word, blurry at best. It was in the basement of a Church across town that I was attending my first AA meeting. My family held an intervention. I went from liquor to a lot of liquor. Was I hooked? Yes and no, I was coping. Party of one. My interpretation of the guilt felt like my shadow, it followed me, and then I was completely surrounded. All is black and all is everything, it’s the everything you can see and touch.

I had chosen a distant location for my first AA meeting hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. When I went inside there was an entire spectrum of people, saying I was surprised would be an understatement. I don’t know what addiction looks like but I can say it doesn’t discriminate. Being young you are brought up to believe the people that go to those meetings are going to look like the pictures you were shown in school to prevent you from abusing drugs and alcohol. When I thought about it more, wouldn’t the logic behind that actually be that these people didn’t get help and that’s why their mugshots look this way and why there are multiple? I took a seat in the back towards the aisle, just so I would have an escape plan. The chairs were the folding metal kind, already uncomfortable so what did it matter anyhow. To be honest I had had a flask hidden in my bedroom full of Crown Royal that I swallowed right before I made my way here. At this point in time looking back, I think I probably needed mental health help. The meetings were great but I needed more. I was lost in thought waiting for the meeting to begin, and before I knew it a woman had caught my attention. She looked around my mother's age and began sauntering down the rows of chairs. All I could think right then was ‘please don’t sit here’. She plopped down right beside me, not even leaving a buffer. All the open chairs and the people that were present and she chooses to sit beside me.

She crossed her legs and then turned her upper body towards me with her head cocked to one side and said “I know you’re new here and you’re clearly not alone” as she gestured with her hands to a whole room full of people. After her voice started with a whisper, suede like and she had begun pointing to some of the other people in the room. Name for name not missing a beat and she had a story for each one. I entertained the thought that she really does have all her marbles, but at one point she slips. She went completely silent like she was confused or maybe she thought she left her oven on. I don’t know if I’m still supposed to be looking at her, if she finished. All the sudden she appeared drained of all color and just turned to me and smiled, a slight laugh that was filled with embarrassment. “Well, the meeting is about to start, good luck”, she said to me in a polite, hurried sort of way. Kind of awkward for a first impression just because she was warm to me at first.

The meeting was over, finally. I exited rather quickly that night as to avoid another awkward encounter. I never caught her name that night, or anything about her for that matter and yet she would become an integral part of my life and development. The part where I actually figure out what I am capable of doing. My limitations and my strengths.

Caroline was her birth name, born to an unwed teenage mother and promptly given up for adoption. She was fortunate to be adopted as an infant and lived a very comfortable life with two caring parents. Her adoptive parents never really understood some of the weird behaviors that Caroline had presented. They chalked it up to mere coincidences and lucky guesses when she was able to tell them of certain events that were yet to happen. With Caroline though, to her it had already happened. She confused the two, before and after, as if there was only after. Caroline was special but she was also naive. Her life was very sheltered. She was raised a proper lady with an excellent education. She was (to me) a black and white television housewife. Even her appearance was always on point. Most of this isn’t important, but she meant a lot to me and I only wish to paint a beautiful canvas to honor her memory.

It was the next meeting, and believe it or not but I had stayed sober. I felt gross for about the first three days and it was harder than I thought. The thing that kept me going was knowing that my stupors and hangovers were way worse than the sickness I felt for that first three days. I felt good about myself, more so than I had felt in a long time. I had some guilt still, I won’t lie. I thought about the first meeting and when people in the room spoke, I realized we’ve all done some really bad shit and I am not alone. Just like she told me. Those stupid metal chairs prevent me from trying to focus on anything else. I was looking around the room and my eyes fell on her and she saw me looking at her. She made her way over to me and sat beside me. Finally, the woman introduced herself as Caroline and apologized if she came across rude last meeting. Some reason I felt I’d forgive her for anything.

She sat with me quietly the duration of the meeting, not even leaving when there was break to get coffee and day old donuts. When the meeting was over people were getting up to leave. I began to get up and thank her for keeping me company but she interrupted me. She faced me, looking me straight in the eyes then said in a harsh whisper, "I know what you did". I know I must've had a confused look on my face but I clearly was showing signs of shock, I couldn't catch my breath. I ran out that night.

The following day whether it was mere coincidence or divine intervention, I happened upon Ms. Caroline herself. I stopped at the library for the first time in what feels like forever, and there she was. Sorting and putting away books, she didn't see me so I snuck to the other side of the aisle she was on. Just like in classic horror films I stared at her through the books, as she was putting away a few books I sprang and whispered "BOO"!