It recently was the Saturday Night Speaker meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. In a meeting on Friday, someone said that the last time this guy spoke, he brought eleven pages of material and only got to two, so they were looking forward to the other nine. This was clearly someone of my species.

 
The speaker began after the usual fare.

 
There was only one Speedo joke. For those unfamiliar with Alcoholics Anonymous, I’ll let you guess if that’s a running gag with the fellowship or not. No mercy.

 
Near the end, he said something that really resonated with me. It was really near the end. Maybe that’s bad. Maybe I shouldn’t let him know how long it took for something he said to really stick.

 
“I’ve given up all hope for a better past.”

 
Wow.

 
Or…

 
Ouch.

 
The things I’ve done will never stop being real. Even, or perhaps especially, the things I don’t remember, because the period of time that’s ECT damaged was filled with heavy hurts and grief. I have, as a drunk, as a suicidal ball of depression and crazy, and simply as a person(three separate categories and three identical categories) done terrible things. I have trashed every living situation I’ve been in. I have lived in my car rather than resolve differences with people that love me. I have neglected animals. I have abused people I’ve been in relationships with. I have stolen. I have lied. I have attempted suicide.

 
I have made people worry about me. I have made people give up on me.

 
And still I kept drinking.

 
But that quote: “I’ve given up all hope for a better past.”

 
It’s very First Step. Life was unmanageable then. I was an active alcoholic.

 
And there’s hope for a better future.

 
I haven’t given up on that.