RACHAEL P.:
My sobriety date is 8-28-2003. I have a sponsor. She knows that she's my sponsor. And I sponsor women. I have a home group. It is the Tampa Young People's Group. We meet on Thursday nights at 7:30 at the Portico Church in downtown Tampa. I've been seeing some of y'all there, so now I have a newfound respect after making that drive up here. But we would love to have you make the trek. And we go out for pizza afterwards. It's, to me, the best pizza in Tampa. To Eddie and Sam's. It's a great time.
So I get very, very nervous. I think because I want to do such a good job. Because Alcoholics Anonymous has really given me every single thing that is good in my life. And I want to pay it reverence and do it justice. And I am just so humbled to be invited anywhere, really. But so humbled to be invited to speak with you guys. Lisa asked me in like October. So if she's y'all's speaker—no, maybe it was September. She is very on top of getting speakers for y'all. And the energy, I'll say, is like palpable in this room.
I heard that y'all started five, six, seven months ago, this meeting. And you can just feel the energy and the vitality and enthusiasm for Alcoholics Anonymous in this room. I couldn't find you guys at first. I was circling. And I saw this church and people standing outside. And I was like, oh, thank God. I think that's the place.
So I'll start how I always start. I was born and raised in Miami-Dade County to two parents who wanted me desperately. And for someone like me, that is like so gross and annoying, you know. My mom had tried for over a decade to have a baby and kept having miscarriage after miscarriage. Then tried to adopt, was told because she was 40 that she was too old because it was the early 80s. And then she got pregnant with me. I was a NICU baby. So from day one of life, I was just sucking the finance and the emotions out of my parents.
And I have this sweating disorder. It's called hyperhidrosis. When I was a kid, it was very, very bad. It really only gets like this when I am speaking. But most of the time, it's pretty under control. And my very first resentment was in the second grade. We used to have to do this thing in school, really annoying, called cursive writing. I'm sure a lot of the kids didn't have to do that right now. But yeah, we would have to write on these pieces of paper. And Mrs. Gelfand would take my papers up to the front of the room and clip them at the front of the room with clothespins so that they could dry. Because my papers were so soaked, she didn't want to touch them. And that was my first resentment. I was like, how dare she? I have a medical condition. She's disgusting.
And so, of course, my mom thought it would be a great idea for me to play competitive piano with these hands. And so I would play these pieces, and between every song, someone would have to come and wipe down the piano. And it was so embarrassing. I just remember grimacing, bracing myself, waiting for the noise. And being like, oh my god, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
My parents are both very straight-laced, type A, loving, caring, kind of like old hippie type people. It was very structured in my house. I have a younger sister who's 17 months younger. She came immediately following me. And not a lot of love in my house, I will say, because my mom is from the western mountains of Appalachia in North Carolina. And my father was a Marine. His father was a Marine. His father was a Marine. And they're older. So they're now, my dad is almost in his mid-80s, and my mother is 80 years old. So they're just from a different generation. You don't really talk about your feelings. You need to self-actualize. If you have a problem, you need to don't gripe about it. Pull yourself up. This is what they saw their parents do.
So I heard a lot about that. I remember just feeling like I was an alien in this family. Did I get switched at birth? Why do I have all of these feelings? And they're so big, and I'm just not okay. And I remember being on the playground at school and just staring at these kids in disbelief. How are they so inwardly organized? And talking to each other and using their hands in the right way and connecting with one another. I felt like they got this memo that I was just not privy to. They knew how to conduct themselves, and I just felt like I did not have this guidebook that they had.
And I was very much so ready to take my first drink. And if I would have known what alcohol was to do for me, I promise you I would have been taking it out of the bottle at three, four years old, like my baba. And I just could not. Life was so overwhelming for me, and I didn't have anything wrong. I was in a safe, good home. And I wouldn't have told you that when I came in here. I had all of these stories and things of why I drank the way I drank.
I started being sexually abused when I was 10 years old. I had begged my family to go to this church down the street from my house with these other girls in my neighborhood, and I just wanted that connection to something bigger than myself so desperately. And my parents, like my mom, grew up with Hellfire and Brimstone. My dad said he was a recovering Catholic, and so they didn't want my sister or I brought up with this judging-type entity, which is nice, but I wanted some sort of connection.
So I go to this church, and there was this youth pastor there who immediately took an interest in me. I was a heavy kid. I was over 100 pounds by the time I was in second grade. I don't weigh that much more than that now. I had my parents slap braces on me because I was a freak of nature and started teething when I was 2 months old. And so by the time I was in second grade, I had full face braces. I had these Coke bottle glasses, and, you know, I'm heavy, and I just was not okay. I have this sweating disorder, and I'm like this oily, sweaty mess.
And I'm getting bused three days a week to go to the gifted program. I'm like, nerd alert. That's me. It still is. When I started getting sexually abused, for me, it was like it confirmed what I already knew deep down at my core, that I was shameful, something was wrong with me. I knew I couldn't tell my peers the things that I was doing because they would think I was disgusting too.
And being sexually molested, sexually assaulted, that doesn't make me an alcoholic. But I will tell you that through working the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and getting outside help, that I have been able to find freedom from that. And I have been able to transform those experiences that happened from 10 to 12 years old into some of my greatest assets and treasures. And those are the incredible things that come to pass here.
And those things, I can say them, not like that it doesn't affect you because you continue to live with those things and those traumas that happen to us when we're children and also when we're qualifying and trying to get into these rooms, trying to get our seat here. It never goes away, but we become uniquely qualified to help another alcoholic.
And so, you know, I got offered the chance to drink with a girl in my neighborhood, Stephanie. She was so cool, y'all. She did gymnastics and she was so blonde and so skinny. And she invited me to go drinking with her, and there was this trailer park outside of Pinecrest, which I know you guys don't know Miami, but now it is a very well-to-do area. When I was growing up, I mean, I was walking to the trailer park, okay?
And we walked to this trailer park and go to this quick stop, and there was this guy named Wolfman there, and I had been doing some, like, bad stuff, right? Like, bad for my family, which isn't that bad. Like, sneaking down the busway and, like, getting on the Metrorail and going downtown without telling my parents, you know? And on one of my adventures, I had seen this guy, and he was, like, really cool. He was on a skateboard and he was wearing all black, and he had, like, chains hanging. You know, like, it is, like, the mid-'90s, right? So, like, he has the chains and the JNCOs and, like, so cool.
And he had this, like, glinting, glimmering bottle that just, like, I was transfixed by it, and it was, like, the prettiest color of orange. It looked like candy. And I was, like, ah. And I saw it in the store that day. It was MD 2020, the orange, do you believe? And, like I said, like, I have alcoholism on both sides of my family. You shake, you know, my family tree, and bottles do fall out. But my parents, I never saw my parents drunk. My parents really wanted different from my sister and myself. And so I, you know, I just never saw that.
But I intuitively knew that you were supposed to turn that bottle back and up and drink it as fast as you could, you know, and that's what I did. And, you guys, I got that special effect that day produced by alcohol. And I had a spiritual experience that day. You know, like, one day to the next, my life was forever changed by that experience. And it was, like, instantly I was okay. I knew how to speak and make jokes and be in the moment. And I could, like, my sweating, it didn't matter. I was cool. And I was okay.
And it's amazing because Alcoholics Anonymous, when I am going to meetings, when I'm saying yes to AA, when I'm working with a sponsor, when I'm sticking my hand out to the newcomer, it does that same special effect. It produces it for me today. And I promise you, after 22 years, like, if it did not do that for me, because I have a very big and full life today because of this program. Like, I go one thing to the next all day long, and I love living life like that. Like, I love to be busy and useful. And I would not still be here, you know, if I did not get that relief and I did not get that special effect.
But Alcoholics Anonymous, you guys, it can be really annoying sometimes with, like, how slow that effect takes to come.
RACHAEL P.:
Like, you have to be these words that I truly hate as an alcoholic, like disciplined, diligent, and consistent. I just want, you know, but that drink, that day, that in those seconds, like, boom, it got me there right away. Got me downtown right then and there.
And, you know, like, my drinking career, because I was 11 years old right before my 12th birthday, when I had that MD 2020. And, like, you know, I got sober when I was 19. So my drinking career is not, like, spectacular. Like, I'm spectacularly a bad drunk, you know, but you can say I definitely tried, right? Like, because I did. I really tried. And I started having consequences really early on. I was in my first outpatient treatment when I was 13 years old. I got court ordered to you people when I was 13 years old, my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.
I went to this group. It was a young people's group off of Ponce de Leon and US1 in 1998, 1999. And, you know, you could smoke inside then. So that was extremely attractive to someone like me. And there were all these kids there, but they, to me, were really old. They were, like, 19, 20 years old. And I felt like I wasn't totally like them. I didn't see anyone as young as I was at that time. And they would all say things to me, like, oh, we probably spilled more than you've ever drank, which might have been true, you know. And, like, you're so cute like I was. I was really cute when I was 13 and bad.
But, you know, I felt like in those first couple meetings, and I was also so self-centered, right, because I'm not only 13 years old, but I have alcoholism. So that's, like, a special kind of self-centeredness. That I thought my dad had gone to the meeting ahead of me and told these people, like, what was in my diary and things to say to, like, connect with me. And I'm insane, right? Like, this is my keen alcoholic mind at work that these people are sharing at me. But really, they're just speaking this language of the heart that I am connecting so deeply and truly with.
And they're armed with facts about themselves that, like, cuts through everything. Like, the power of identification that we get here from Alcoholics Anonymous is incredible. And it's one of our greatest assets that we get here. And so they are speaking, and I think they've read my diary. And I can't understand why I'm relating to these people. I felt like I was so different and unique and troubled. And by this point, like, I've been going to psychiatrists and psychologists since I was in, like, third, fourth grade, trying to figure out what is the problem with me. And I have all these diagnoses slapped onto me, which, you know, BPD and bipolar disorder or this or this.
And I would look these diagnoses up in these things called books. We don't need those anymore. And just read about them so I could know how I was supposed to be acting. Like, I just want, like, something to tell me. Like, okay, be like this. Okay, I can do that, right? And it's wild, but, like, I get that here today too. Like, I get a design for living here. My sponsor doesn't tell me things I have to do, but she, like, gives me well-researched suggestions on, you know, things I can or cannot do with some success.
And so I, you know, I'm relating to these meetings, but I'm like, eh, I don't know. I'm still too young. And alcohol is absolutely my solution. So when I don't drink, like, my life gets worse. And I get worse. And these defects of character are just, like, so pronounced because I have no solution. Like, when I, even today, like, when I am out of sorts, haven't been to a meeting, am so busy, like, burning the candle on both ends, working, you know, I work a lot of jobs. It's a problem I should really cut back.
But when I'm not taking care of my sobriety and myself, like, it becomes glaringly apparent in a matter of days, you know, that I am off the beam and not well. So, you know, this teenage girl who has alcohol as this new solution, when I'm sober, like, I don't have a drinking problem. Like, I have a sober problem. Like, I'm not okay when I am sober. So, and I'm, like, a blackout drinker. I'm Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde. Like, I seem like a really sweet girl. I know, like, I can clean up and look real nice. But, like, I am belligerent. I am nasty. I am, like, the only words I know are four-letter ones and bro, you know.
And I, like, I for some reason think I'm from, like, a very hard family when I get intoxicated. And that's, like, so far from the truth. Like, I am delusional. And, you know, I was a chameleon. Like, one week I'm, like, hanging out, going to hip-hop shows and sneaking off to South Beach to, like, be in the club underage. And, you know, with all these, like, hip-hop heads and hip-hop crowds and I'm wearing, like, the cool sneakers and whatever. And then the next week I'm goth. And then the next week I'm, like, a skater. But I'm just wherever the booze is, is where I'm at.
And I, like I said, I'm already in this outpatient. And I meet, like, these other degenerate children there who just taught me how to, like, hide my drinking much better. And they showed me this spy store in the mall. Like, do people even go to the mall anymore? But, like, we went in the 90s. We were at the mall. And there was this spy store. And you could, like, hide stuff in your walls and cut holes. And, you know, I just thought I was so, such an engineer, right? And I am learning to, like, be more secretive and better with hiding the things that I'm doing.
And I'm getting kicked out of middle school. And I'm in high school. And it's just the same stuff. You know, I stole my mom's car when I was 15 to go get alcohol with my friends down from there was this FINA about 11 miles from my house in Coconut Grove. And as the resourceful alcoholic that I was, like, I would devise a plan of, like, how I could get there to get the booze. And so I stole my mom's car. I didn't understand you couldn't turn left in front of oncoming traffic. I didn't really know, like, traffic laws yet. And I just, you know, T-boned her Chrysler minivan into this oncoming traffic.
And my mom, being the burgeoning Al-Anon member that she would become, comes to the scene and says that she was driving because my mom is like an angel, really. And she thought she was doing, you know, she didn't understand, like, enabling and things like that. So she's just saying, oh, you know, I was driving. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I wasn't paying attention. And I get my license two weeks later, and I create a six-car pileup, inebriated at 3 p.m. in the afternoon, cutting class on South Beach again at, you know, 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
And I didn't get breathalyzed. I said I was changing my CD player. Like, I'm so old. I'm changing my CD changer. I was trying to change Britney out for Limp Bizkit, you know. And I dropped the CD, and, you know, I created a six-car pileup on US1. And I realized, like, that day what my problem really was, driving. Driving. So I had this hostage, poor guy, still one of my dearest friends. His name was Javier. And one of the things I would say when I came in here, I'm not like you people. I never had a DUI, you know. But poor Javier had three, with me passenger side.
And from that moment on, he always had to drive. And I just kept going, you know. I kept going into these blackouts. And I really had a lot of well-meaning, wonderful people around me. When I was in Miami, it wouldn't be the case when I would leave. That would, like, keep me out of very serious, like, you know, when I was so drunk that I would be blacked out and passed out. They would put me in a safe place and, like, take care of me and hold my hair when I was throwing up and do all of those things. I also had adults who were, like, rallying for me and trying to get me to just graduate high school, you know.
And I was just spitting in their faces. I was so entitled and didn't know how good I had it. And I just fast forward because it's all the same, like, throughout high school for me. I'm just having encounters with the police. I was arrested four times as a juvenile. And then at the age of 18, which was my senior year of high school, because I was held back. So, like, I was, like, the oldest one in my class. And when I was about to graduate, I ended up getting arrested for the third time as an adult. And all of my charges are alcohol-related.
You know, I was in a blackout for my, this is my second. Javier and I went into a 25-foot ditch on Alligator Alley. And the police officer that, like, dove down into this ditch to see if we were okay, I assaulted him, punched him, and kicked and screamed and got my stomach pumped in the back of an EMS. Came to in Collier County Women's, which I don't know if you guys know, but Miami is, like, really far from Marco Island, Collier County. Like, I don't know what I was doing there, but I was there. And there was, you know, there was alcohol, so that's why I was there.
And I assault this police officer and come to, and these women in this facility are, like, all standing around me. And I'm like, what's going on? And they're like, girl, you were wild and you were kicking and screaming and you're so tiny, but you're, like, just, like, belligerent. And I'm like, oh, my God. They think I'm really cool. And these are my people. Like, these are my best friends, right? And this, like, bigger, blonder version of me takes me into her cell and puts, like, Skittles on my lips and takes this pen and, like, puts it under my eyes, and she's like, later we can get pills. And I'm like, who would ever leave this place? Like, they're feeding me. I have a schedule. Like, I like that, and I do really well with that.
And so when my mom comes to bail me out of this Collier County Women's facility, of general population, because the police were, like, trying to scare me straight because Javier did not get put in general population of the men's jail. I'm like, you can't take me away.
RACHAEL P.:
Like, these are my best friends, you know? I can't tell you not one of their names, but they're my best friends. And that next night I steal poor Clara's car and pick up Javier because he has to drive, and we get into this high-speed chase on I-95 with this man we were having a disagreement with about owing him money for stuff we had bought from him or whatever.
And so we try to get off the exit. We get off the exit a little too fast, and we, like, hop the curb, and we hit a pole, and the pole falls on top of the car, and then arrested again. And, you know, so that was my third arrest. My parents had retained this attorney for me who was saying these things to me now that he had never said before about, like, mandatory jail time, three strikes in the state of Florida, blah, blah, blah.
And I remember just my entitlement was palpable. You know, like, girls like me don't. Come on, Doug. Girls like me don't go to jail. Right? And I have since, through Alcoholics Anonymous and H&I Commitments, met girls much bougier than me and more entitled than me who absolutely do go to jail.
You know, but the judge that I went in front of, she told me to show up, like, looking like Alice in Wonderland. I took that note. I wore the blue dress, white headband, and to, you know, my hearing that day. And she told me that I was suffering from an alcohol and substance use disorder and that she was going to mandate one year of treatment.
And I remember thinking, like, my life was over. And, like, she had just done me such a favor. And so I go into this treatment program in Miami. It wasn't fair. There was, like, a Spanish program there, and me and Spanish men, like, I just can't. And I couldn't focus at all, so I end up getting kicked out of there. But I'm still on this court order, so I have to go somewhere.
So I get sent to an all-women's facility in Goshen Springs, Mississippi, where you cut grass with scissors. And at the time, it was, like, one of my biggest achievements. I was the youngest person they had ever let into this facility, and I wanted all of you to know that I got let in, and I was the youngest. You know, like, what an accolade.
And I was that girl who I absolutely robbed my parents of the ability to brag and boast about me. All these kids that I'm growing up around are going to Harvard. They're going to Columbia. They have lacrosse scholarships. Like, they are doing incredible things with their lives. And, you know, my mom is a member of this, like, women's organization that does philanthropic things.
And, like, she's twiddling her thumbs, being like, well, Rachel's in drug court again. You know, like, she might be about to graduate. We don't know, though, but we're hopeful. And it was, you know, I see those things, like, through working a fourth step and giving a fifth step to a sponsor.
Like, I'm able to see, like, who and what I truly am and, like, the causes and conditions of the shame of why I continue to pour alcohol into my body and why if I do not have a psychic change, like, we will always, do you guys know that? Like, we will always drink again. We will always drink again, okay?
Like, no amount of sobriety ensures that sobriety thing. No, I mean, it helps. Like, it's kind of like autopilot for me some days, right? Like, I have my meetings I regularly attend. I have these girls that call me. Like, I'm pretty much in the middle of the boat in Alcoholics Anonymous, right? I say yes when people ask me to do things.
But, like, when I stop and I backslide, it is like I have a brain. Like, I am hardwired to put substances into me again. So I don't know why I'm saying that, but. And I am in this treatment center in Jackson, Mississippi. I overhear the therapeutic team talking about this guy who's, like, toxic to the therapeutic community.
My little ears perk right up because, like, sounds like boyfriend material to me. So I get a note over a moat, you know, resourceful female alcoholic that I am. And we meet up under the Mississippi moonlight and decide we are in love, you know? And I was, right? And we decide to leave together AMA.
And I set out to prove that I could drink like a normal person because these other substances, like, they're a problem, right? Like, they're addictive. But alcohol, like, you can't say. I'm so, like, I could just, I just rationalized and I was not an alcoholic. And my mom, like, I'd be like, Mom, am I an alcoholic? She'd be like, no.
I'd be like, thank you. Thank you. Like, how? You know, I'm so young. I've never tried to really stop or moderate. And so, you know, now I am in Mississippi, you know, setting out to drink normally, whatever that is, that I've never done it, just so you know. Never had any desire to drink normally, have one or two, or, like, sip.
I mean, when you're drinking MD-2020 out of the bottle or Mickey's warm out of the bottle, like, it's not in the cards for you to be sipping a martini on a bar stool. You know what I mean? Like, I drink out of plastic bottles. So, in paper bags, like, from the beginning. So I set out to, like, prove these other things were an issue, but I'm going to abstain from those, and I'm just going to make it real easy and just drink normal.
And my parents started going to this really annoying place by this time called Al-Anon, and I'm calling them and asking for money, and they're saying things that sound crazy to me, like, we are detaching from you with love. We love you. We are not going to continue to support you when you are killing yourself hanging up.
I am, like, your firstborn who you tried for years. Like, all I hear my whole life is, I'm a miracle, and I'm, like, I'm your first daughter. Like, what? And I was shocked. And so I'm in Mississippi. I thought this guy that I was with was, like, very simple, right, because I'm from a big city, and he's from, like, nowhere Mississippi.
And I got to learn very quickly that, like, I didn't know anything. You know, I am, like, doing things for that next drink that I had never had to do before in Miami. I am around people, places, and things that are my bottom is just getting lower and lower. I'm hanging out in hotels that are connected to bars that will serve alcohol to minors, and then you can just go up to the hotel after if you guys get what I'm saying.
Like, it is seedy. It is nasty. And I just accepted it, you know, like, okay. Well, if this is what I have to do to drink, then so be it. So be it. And so I'm getting money from this guy, from multiple guys at this time so that I can get my hair, nails, and tan.
Like, I am so accustomed, right, while I'm doing all these other things. And this one guy, Larry, he had fallen on very hard times. I met him in Alcoholics Anonymous, and he was not doing well. And I ended up moving him in with Michael and I, so we were just, like, one really messed up, dysfunctional family.
And Larry would say these really dark things to me, man. And, like, the signs were there, but, like, I'm this self-absorbed 19-year-old girl. And, you know, he ended up shooting himself in the head, and I found him dead in his room. And I remember, like, when I found him and seeing the piece on his face.
And, like, I related to Larry on that level that we, as alcoholics who identify with one another, relate to each other on. And when I saw his face, I just thought, lucky. Lucky. Because I knew, like, all this, like, committee that is constantly chattering and ripping and, like, going, it was, like, silent. Like, I could see it. I could see it.
And I, like, wanted that. But I was, like, too much of a coward for myself. And how dark it is before the dawn. You know, that was August 11th of 2003. I had no idea that my last sobriety date was, like, right there on the horizon, you know. And I was going to meetings still.
You know, I would pick up white chips. I picked up so many white chips in these 18 months, y'all. It was, like, embarrassing. I felt like I could feel, like, when I would, like, go get a white chip, that people would be, like, aw, like, her again. Like, ugh. Like, she never does anything different.
And so I had gotten, like, five days sober during this time. And this one little stint. And, you know, resourceful female alcoholic. I get into college in those five days. Get the application done, which it is Mississippi, so it's not that impressive. But I did get into college.
And I had told Michael, my boyfriend, that, you know, that it started on the 25th. And it was really important that I be there on the first day of school. And, like, he respected my hopes, dreams, aspirations, not whatsoever. Like, not at all. And so we got drunk, you know, the night before I was to go to school.
And I got blackout drunk. I went into a blackout. I lost my, you know, lost my car. Well, might as well. I wrecked my car. And ended up with this rental car, which then got given to a crack dealer. And it, you know, I knew that I could get to school that next day.
But I'd rather just, like, call people and tell them that, you know, these people had my car. It was a rental car. And I didn't know what to do. And, like, help me get out of this. And go across the street to the gas station. It was like an amico where I would beg people to buy me booze. Because I was 19 and could not legally buy alcohol.
And I was miserable at this point. I'm drinking vodka out of the freezer in the morning at this point. And I'm, like, wanting to just ‑‑ I remember thinking, like, girls like me don't get sober. Girls like me are not mothers. Like, I'm just having these thoughts that are, like, very, very dark. And I felt so lonely.
Because I could not see my life with or without alcohol at all. And I ended up going to that ‑‑ finally getting to school on the third day of school. And I missed the day class. But I made that night class. And I was right on time. Because my God, he is always right on time.
And I walk into the class. And some girl raises her hand right off the bat and says, Dr.
RACHAEL P.:
Grummel, what's your favorite kind of wine? And he says, I don't drink. I'm allergic to alcohol. And that's all I heard that whole class, you know? And it was American government class. And I'm supposedly from America. But I'm from Miami, Florida. So I ‑‑ seriously. It's wild. And I don't understand anything that's going on. But I understood that.
So I go up to him after the class. And I'm like, I've been out of school for, like, 18 months. And by the way, how allergic to alcohol are you? And he put down a 14‑year medallion. He was ancient. So old. He was, like, 34. And he told me this is how ‑‑ you know, I got sober when I was 19. I was in a head‑on collision. And my best friend was in the car and died instantly. I had just had this experience with Larry, finding Larry dead. And I related to him.
And I went to a meeting that night called the Way Out Group in Jackson, Mississippi. And I picked up white chips there before. I picked up one there that night. And I don't know. I just had this, like, little shed of willingness, like, that was shining into my life. And I choose to call it God now. I did it for a long time in here. And, you know, I really evaded that part in the book that talks about, like, the purpose of this book. I didn't know, y'all. You don't know until you know. And sometimes it takes years to really know.
So, like, I went through ‑‑ I was sober physically. I had worked the steps to the best of my ability. But I had a group of drunks as my God. And, like, for a drunk of my variety, like, that's just not big enough. I wish it was, you know. But, like, I found myself at six years suicidal. I got dumped. I've been dumped so many times. Sober, y'all. If anyone just got dumped, it's going to be okay. It's okay. Like, you will love again. It's meant for you.
But I got dumped, you know. And I attempted suicide. I tried to hang myself from a bed post. And that was my solution. Because I knew I couldn't drink. I had a strong step one. But I couldn't see how I was going to live without this person. And I get shipped back to Miami.
And I meet this lady in this meeting that I begrudgingly go to. Because they're not doing it right in Miami, Florida, AA. Like, I want my Mississippi AA, you know. And I talked to this lady after the meeting. And she told me, for a girl like me, it was a non-negotiable for me to invite a God to run my life. If I believed in him or not. And I don't know why, but I heard her. And I did it. Finally. You know.
And I do believe that I was on my way out if I would not have invited that higher power into my life to run my life. And I met these young people at that time that were just on fire for Alcoholics Anonymous. They were talking about starting a young people's group. And we ended up starting Miami YPG. Not anything I had planned or would ever want to do. Ever. Especially at that point. I was way too cool. So cool that I was about to be away from you guys. Like, that cool. Isolatingly cool. I don't know if anyone suffers from that affliction. But it is quite lonely to be that cool.
And I, yeah. I got it. That's the first time I really got in and jumped into Alcoholics Anonymous completely. And abandoned myself to this program. And I've just been swept up ever since. That time. And my life has continued to unfold.
I had some major setbacks this last year. I went through a divorce. The common thread is that AA continues to be there. And I just continue to do the same stuff that kept me sober. I was this girl who took money from men and prostituted myself for that next drink. And today I support two households. And I say that not because I'm so great. But it's a freaking miracle. It's a freaking miracle.
And my son goes to a good school. I was told I couldn't have a child. Fast forward. I have this three-year-old boy who is the light of my life. And I'll close with this. I had this chip just like sitting on my table. And it was like this angel, this sponsee of mine from North Florida had sent it to me for my anniversary this year.
And my son saw it and he's like, Mommy, what's that? And I'm like, oh, that's Mommy's medallion. And he said, oh, I know Mommy. My Mommy is a miracle. He's three. And he just says these things that shock me on a daily basis. And I really would have given it all away. And I could have missed it all if not for this fellowship and Alcoholics Anonymous.
That's all I got. Sorry, I talk so much about being drunk. Thank you. Alright, let's thank him one more time.