"Make Coffee. All I thought about as I was making the coffee was making the coffee and how people can enjoy it. At my sponsor’s suggestion, I stood near the coffeepot and welcomed everyone who came by. I must have experienced a million smiles in a very short time. And when I pushed the broom all I concentrated on was the dust rising from it as I moved across the floor. My troubles were gone for the time that I was doing these things. And so it can be for you. If you can’t live and you can’t die, make coffee."
— The Home Group: Heartbeat of AA, p. 43

me

It’s as if I have another chance at life. I no longer have to drink. I no longer have to live a life that feels meaningless. It’s at first an unbelievable feeling, but then it slowly becomes your very own reality: this life is ours and we can live it to the fullest! I no longer measure my self-worth by what others think of me; I’m able to be kind, thoughtful, caring, and compassionate because I want to be that person, not because I want people to like me and give me their approval. It makes me feel so free and so light, as if I’ve put down a heavy burden I didn’t even know I was lugging around. I’m at that awkward stage where I’m not fully open; I’m still in the process, taking it slow because I still have a lot of fears and I’m not yet sure if I have enough trust in myself or others to be completely open and completely myself. I formerly used passive aggression, regular aggression, sarcasm, and other generally hurtful “survivor skills” to protect myself when around others. If people didn’t like me, it was easy to say that they didn’t know me because technically, I wasn’t letting them know the real me. Only the self-conscious version. Only the version that walled-off others with those character defects. Abandoning those methods, or “dropping the rock”, is really fucking scary and also really exciting. I’m so happy being a half-open flower right now :)

(Source: grace4me)

"Tornado! The alcoholic is like a tornado roaring through the lives of others. Hearts are broken. Sweet relationships are dead. Affections have been uprooted. Selfish and inconsiderate habits have kept the home in turmoil.
We feel a man is unthinking when he says sobriety is enough. He is like the farmer who came up out of his cyclone cellar to find his home ruined.
To his wife, he remarked, “Don’t see anything the matter here, Ma. Ain’t it grand the wind stopped blowin’?”"
— Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 82