The following morning, after my first AA meeting, I am sitting at Neve’s kitchen table, drinking my third cup of coffee that day, Joey, her black cat, stretched out on the island.
Nervously I read the Twelve Steps.
I stop abruptly. ‘Neve, I’m not religious. I’m not even sure I believe in God.’
She sits down beside me as if expecting this. ‘Polly, I can’t stress enough that AA makes no religious demands on you. AA was founded by Christians but it’s open to everyone. Our home group that you came to yesterday will be made up of Christians, others agnostic, a Buddhist, Harry prays to the angels. Everyone is different. AA merely advocates appealing to a Higher Power, a belief in a power greater than oneself. It’s not about going to church every Sunday. AA is not some cult either. You can leave whenever you like. If you look at Step Three, there are three important words. Can you see them?’
I read the Step out loud. ‘To the care of God as we understand Him.’ All I can see is the word ‘God’.
Neve helps me out. ‘As we understand Him. We only recover from our addiction when we admit our powerlessness and the need for “the God of our understanding” to help free us.’
‘What’s your God?’
‘At school I used to picture God in the sky sitting on a puff of clouds, dressed in shrouds, but now God is a shaft of sunlight that you see through the trees, or it’s seeing my two children eat their vegetables.’ She smiles. ‘When I hit my rock bottom and finally admitted I needed help, I began to hear this strong and loving voice that over time helped the madness, the insanity going on in my head. I had a problem with food as well as drink and drugs,’ she confides. ‘“If you eat cereal out of a mug instead of a bowl it doesn’t count,” said this gremlin in my head, or “Throw the food in the dustbin, Neve, you don’t need it.” Then I’d wake up with that bloody voice telling me to eat it, so I’d rush out in the middle of the night and fish the food out of the bin. Something has to give! This madness is unsustainable. Praying helped me get moments of sanity and gradually I began to hear a much calmer voice guiding me through this wilderness. People might laugh …’
‘I’m not.’
‘A voice told me to talk to my father, say sorry before it was too late. I visited him in hospital and he died only hours later. Cynics will think it was just a coincidence, he was ill anyway, but I believe it’s something deeper than that. Some people think only they know best, they want to quit their own way. Well, that’s fine, but the thing you need to ask yourself is, “Can I stay sober alone?” We all need help sometimes, Polly.’