Coral’s Healing Room at 505-269-9242 I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

I am so thankful for AA coffee…

Happy Monday morning. I hope you had a wonderful weekend. I am blessed to have had some amazing client appointments, spectacular studio sessions and I hit a few meetings. My weekend was full and my heart is full. My struggle is real and my heart is full just the same, which I am grateful for.

For me lately, I feel tethered to nothing. I feel like I’m just flailing around out here, desperately trying to connect to something solid, something tangible…all things love and light and truth. My life has become unmanageable, which has enlightened me to the disturbing reality that my life has always been unmanageable. I have always been out there, flailing around and tethered to nothing or no one. Alcohol fueled all of that momentum nicely my whole life, and now I feel empty of my fuel. I feel like I don’t have what it takes, like I don’t know where to get what it takes, other than the loving rooms of AA. And so…that is where you will find me. I didn’t learn these principles at home. I didn’t learn these things in church or school. I didn’t learn many things at all and so I am learning now, how to be a good human being and how to not be selfish and self-serving. I am sad to know how selfish I have been, how selfish I often still am and how far I’ve left to go, as I feel pretty stupid standing here, not knowing. I feel pretty bad about some things I do know and some mistakes I did make. I feel really sad about where I came from and the sickness I was born into. I feel isolated and alone and confused as I begin to unravel what I couldn’t even fucking look at before. AA is not for the faint of heart and yet it’s the only thing left for me. My faint heart will simply have to man the fuck up, roll up her sleeves and get a fucking grip on reality. Sobriety is sobering. Sitting in the rooms and feeling brand new, listening to people’s stories and holding space for broken hearts, I know I am home and I know that I am where I belong.

In our church growing up, we hosted AA meetings. I remember that they had blue bibles and we had black ones. They were sick and we were not, so stay away. Don’t touch their cabinet and stay away from them if they are here. They are smokers and drinkers and stay away from them. I never knew what any of that rhetoric meant. I only know I see and feel people like that in the churches I now frequent for my meetings. No one wants what we have…they want to get the fuck away from us so they don’t get it. So…to cheer you up a bit…you cannot get what I have by sitting next to me. You cannot be stricken with my story simply because you hear it. AA is for people who are sick and some of them smoke and we do have blue bibles. We are closer to God than many of the people in the pulpits. We are more wise than the matriarch of most common families. We alcoholics are a sick fucking bunch, gathering together to tell our stories, in an effort to live well. We drink the most amazing coffee that you will ever taste in the rooms of AA…as my sponsor pointed out yesterday…AA coffee is some humble fucking coffee. Every AA cup of coffee is the best fucking cup of coffee I’ve ever had, as it is brewed in the rooms of AA, and it fits perfectly into my shaking and sweating hands. AA coffee tastes like humble…tastes like healing…tastes like the life we are living. I am so fucking thankful for AA coffee. I fucking love AA coffee. The days that I fuel myself on AA coffee are the best days because I am reminded that I am doing my best to get better. AA coffee…there is nothing like it and they always leave the coffee pot on and the light on for us…Always. None of my friends in addiction could offer me that…only one friend in my addiction offered me AA coffee and stale Oreos…and I accepted, simply because she needed me to go to a meeting with her.

My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic. I have not touched alcohol in almost six years. My mom got cancer and died quickly and unexpectedly and I did not drink. My Dad decided that I just wasn’t for him anymore and he left and I didn’t drink. My brother, who used to be just down the hall, feels so, so far away and I wish I could go have a drink with him, like old times, and catch up. I miss my little brother so, so much and in all of this depression, I can’t reach or reach back much. I see my family blown apart, and I don’t drink. I struggle in my marriage and I don’t drink. I hustle to make money and to not have to struggle making money and I don’t drink. Friends and family scattered like wildfires and I do not drink. Medical issues plagued me and I was prescribed enough drugs to kill off a small army and still, I did not drink. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic. My place is in the rooms. My life has become unmanageable.

I thank God for my seat in A.A. and for the best fucking coffee in the world. I know that I belong here and that I am always welcome here, no matter which room I wander into. All are welcome here, as long as you’ve a desire to quit drinking, you can come and drink the best coffee ever with me. You can brew your own and you can but your own and you can bring your own…you will never have a better cup of coffee though, than the cup of coffee in those little white styrofoam cups in the rooms of an A.A. meeting. As you are shaking and sweating and crying and barely able to be here at all, your little cup of coffee will shift hands and sit next to you on the floor…maybe on the seat next to you…and you will be next and you will forget about your coffee at all, as you share. You will either have just had the longest three minutes of your life or the time flew by too quickly for your share…and you will reach down for that white styrofoam cup, to grab the security of that cold ass cup of coffee. You will see the coffee makers in the distance and the tear-stained faces all around you, and you will grip your big book like your life depends on it, for you are in the loving rooms of AA and you feel so, so alone. You will watch the clock and pray that time starts to crawl, for time is passing and soon, the doors will open and the coffee will be gone and everyone will scatter. In these final moments, as I scrape myself together, I just want to live in these rooms and drink this coffee until I can stand on my own again. And so, I will live in these rooms and drink this epic fucking AA coffee, gather and collect my phone lists and a new highlighter…I will live and love in these rooms until I can live on my own again. I will thank God for every single cup, for every single drop, of AA coffee. AA coffee is the stuff that allows the broken healing and the unwelcome to be welcome. AA coffee lets us all be the same for an hour at a time, as we prepare to share and heal our stories together. AA coffee is the only coffee for me right now, as I grab another cup and take my chair. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.