I’m here in NYC – visiting friends for a day then doing some business here.  NYC was where I got sober and spent my first five years in sobriety.  It has a lot of memories for me – it was the place where my life changed so dramatically and where I built a foundation that has proven to be pretty darn strong.

For a long time after moving to Los Angeles I really missed a particular room in Manhattan. It was on the Upper East Side on Monday nights right after work. It was in the basement of a church (grin – aren’t most of them?) and had such a solid group of wonderful people that I truly looked forward to that Monday night meeting each and every week.

It’s nice when you find a place like that. I can’t say I’ve ever quite found a match for it.  That might be due to who I was at the time rather than the meetings themselves. It’s like when you get nostalgic about a time in your youth and someone points out something that you’d completely forgotten – it just wasn’t part of your perfect picture of the past.

But on thing is so clear to me: I have these memories because nothing interfered with my having them.  Just think about the things you experienced that you barely recall because of alcohol or drugs – ever had a friend tell you a long story that begins with “remember when…” and you have no freaking clue what they’re talking about?  Yikes.

There are more than a few people who end up leaving the support of programs because they don’t feel comfortable with the specific religious direction some meetings take. It’s unfortunate that while many say there is no religious affiliation, many groups fall into a specific alignment, even endorsement, of a religion. It’s unfortunate because while many can just ignore it, some cannot, and those people may end up on their own, and that can be a hard if not impossible path in recovery.

First off – don’t give up. If you have found a particular meeting feels more like a visit to a revival tent, remember there are dozens of meetings (hundreds in big cities) to choose from. You can even start your own at some point with like-minded people.

The most important thing is to focus on what keeps you from drinking. It’s a habit of alcoholics to focus on the things they can’t tolerate vs. what they can (in my opinion).  So beware of talking yourself out of the help you need because something annoys you.

I remember finding a suitably secular meeting in NYC – I was relieved. They truly embraced the belief that they should not endorse any specific religion. Religion has traditionally been a very personal thing in our country – although over the last decade it’s become in my opinion uncomfortably public.   Anyone who isn’t in the mainstream can be made to feel awkward, even reviled!  Well, that’s not going to help anyone get sober.

The whole higher power thing can easily become the wall that some can’t get through – but it doesn’t have to be that way. Get creative.  I’m not talking about the cute comments like, “This chair can be your higher power, as long as you have one.”  Anyone with half a brain won’t be able to work with that.

However, there are principles and guiding beliefs that can certainly serve as higher powers. For example, Truth with a capital T.   The human mind is quite capable of using an abstract concept as a guiding force, and what is a higher power if not a guiding force?

This post might make some very uncomfortable, particularly those who believe there is only one thing to believe and everyone else is wrong. My goal in writing it is to help those who might be lost if they don’t find a way to make peace with this part of recovery through community.  Certainly helping another human being find safety and solace in a program of recovery is more important than converting them to a specific set of religious beliefs.

One of the most frustrating things in meetings is when someone declares an absolute: you MUST do it this way. I fear this infects some groups, and while the regulars might be quite happy with the absolutes, it could have a very negative impact on newcomers.

I remember being at a particular meeting in New York City in the late 1980s where someone with a little time told a newcomer she could not take her medication for bipolar disorder (I believe it was lithium). I was shocked and horrified that someone in the rooms was practicing medicine without a license.  What if the person just stopped taking a medication critical to their mental well-being and killed themselves a few weeks later?  Would that self-appointed “expert” take responsibility? Unlikely. Because people who do this type of thing tend to be so foolishly arrogant that they would find a way to put the blame elsewhere.

Granted, there are people taking medications who have no business taking them, and certain medications are clearly just being taken for a high, but there are ways to help people without playing doctor.

I think today more and more people understand there is such a thing as clinical depression – although I still hear cases of people saying, “Oh, she’s just lazy,” when they describe a clearly depressed person who is at high risk for self-harm.

But if there is one absolute in the rooms it’s this: you must respect others’ differences or they might not come back, and you can’t help a newcomer who doesn’t show up again.