Self Centered
by David Weitz
If you think attending a meeting once a week in a church basement is tough, try recovering in a clubhouse where your program gets tested daily. When I first arrived, I couldn’t tell if I was seen as “new” because of the literal definition or because of my outlandish behavior. By the time I earned my third coin, half the room was cheering me on to say whatever was on my mind, while the other half probably wished I’d find a clubhouse on the other side of the planet. “Principles Before Personalities” wasn’t just a tradition I saw on the wall or heard in meetings—it became a mantra I repeated to myself like a madman.
Picture this: walking into the same room with the same personalities—not just on Mondays, but Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and let’s not even talk about the weekends. At that point, all I was missing was a halfway decent bed. I might as well have brought my toothbrush and moved in!
Anyone who’s been through this knows exactly what I mean. And those who’ve made it this far in recovery eventually reach a point where they realize it’s time to venture outside the clubhouse. That’s when the real bravery kicks in. You plan the occasion like it’s a date—not with someone else, but with yourself. Romantic, right? You clean yourself up, maybe dress a little sharper than usual, and show up early to a new meeting. The meeting begins, and soon enough, it hits you: you miss your usual clubhouse crew—even the ones you don’t like. Heck, you miss not liking them!
After that surreal experience, you go home, sleep it off, and the next day find yourself back in your regular seat, comforted by the realization that, no matter where else you might go, there’s no place like home.
One day, I’ll gather the courage to evolve beyond my little habitat. But for now, I can honestly say that the good I gain from where I recover far outweighs the challenges posed by the personalities around me. It’s where I take pride in welcoming newcomers—those seeking a safe haven, a home that’s always open, where you can keep showing up until you’ve exhausted yourself into wellness.
In truth, I consider myself lucky. Most people don’t have the luxury of a place like this, the very place I’ve worked so hard to complain about. Maybe it’s just the self-centered part of me—the same part that brought me to my knees in the first place. Then again, at least I’ve got a center where I can be myself.
