Community for an Isolationist

I exhausted myself writing through my experience with my husband here.  Sorry it's been so long between posts.

I missed my home group two weeks in a row.  Out of state one week, then my husband had to work the following week.  Last night, despite the 40 minute drive, I itched to see my peeps.  But I was also apprehensive.  Last week, someone of my home group died.  And I couldn't place him when someone told me, despite seeing him many times during the last seven months or so.

It's not a big meeting.  There are generally 20 or so folks there, of which 2/3 are generally the same.  I have to admit I'm more hooked into the women, but I know the men.  But last week I heard through my sponsor that a man had died of an overdose following a devastating medical diagnosis.   He'd had a year.

It really bothered me for days that someone was gone and I should KNOW who it was.

I'm an introvert.  A lot of people are surprised by that, I'm not particularly shy, and I can chat informally and network professionally.  But it's not my first choice and I have to take alone time to recharge.  Left to my own devices I'd hole up at home with good books for days.  When I drank, I did so alone as much as possible.  I have two best friends, and I'm done.   I don't have any interest in a wide circle of acquaintances (hell, I had to go look up how to spell the word).   My extended family is small and widespread, we are not cohesive.

It took me many years to figure out that people remember me.  I'm always secretly delighted when people do.  The little girl buried 100 feet down doesn't expect anyone will do so.  "I'm not special enough to remember, there's nothing that distinctive about me," she thinks.  It's sad for a human being to disavow the uniqueness that is their birthright.  Years of experience have intellectually taught me something different than what that little girl believes.  Still, when someone remembers me who I think wouldn't have reason to she whispers "You remember me?  Really?"  And if I'm really being honest, she then wants to know why.  Intellectually I know why, but apparently she doesn't really believe all that crap that goes on in my brain.

Something I missed in my first sobriety was a really good sense of community.  My home group meeting was too big.  There was definitely an "in" crowd at that group and I wasn't part of it.  I saw it, it pissed me off, but I was too young and needed AA too much to find another meeting that met as often.  Now I see I was conflicted: I wanted to be in the in crowd, but felt deep down the fact it existed within AA was dysfunctional.  I had AA friends, but not a community.

This time around I'm starting to get how important that community is, and how much I need it.  I didn't want to see one or two people last night, I wanted to see them all.  I used to go to AA meetings to see a friend or two, now I go to connect to this group and the dynamic that exists there.

It rocked my community that J. died, and yet my first response was "Who?  Which one was he?"  I feel self-absorbed.  I had to out myself to the group, tell them I couldn't remember J.  If I saw his face again, I would.  But that is no longer possible.  I feel a sadness that is displaced due to lack of recognition.

So, for all those reasons, I stayed last night because I belong to the community.  Someone's grandmother died, someone found out they were going to be a grandfather, someone is capable of more compassion than I.  I marked their names to their faces.  I will honor them as I wish to be honored.