Gassed and Lit

Farewell my Evil Twin

I never could drink like a normal person, but that didn’t stop me. I knew I had a problem from my first guzzle-fest at 12 when I blacked out. Well, first, I had a spiritual awakening, predicted the future, braided all my friend’s hair, sang a few impromptu love songs, and confessed my undying love to my cat, “You guys don’t understand, I love this cat!” and then I blacked out.

This would set that pattern. I blacked out every time I drank.

At 18, I found myself in a smokey church basement filled with old men with red noses and great stories. I was invited there by a friend’s mom. I never identified. I never said I was an alcoholic. But I did get a sponsor named Rhonda, who was wiry like a Whippet and worn like an old shoe. She was 30 and loved talking about sobriety and camping. I tried to stay interested, but when you were 18, 30 seemed like 80, and I wasn’t a camper.

Instead of the Big Book of AA, Rhonda gave me her used copies of Louise Hay's You Can Heal Your Life and Og Mandino's The World's Greatest Salesman. When I got thirsty, I drank them in and stayed sober for the time it took to read them.

As mind-blowing and breathtaking a vantage point that her self-help library offered, I could not honestly imagine life without alcohol. It was my family's bloodline. It was the river running through every experience and encounter. Does Christmas even happen sober? How would I stay sober on birthdays or family vacations? These events without alcohol sounded like waterproof sponges; why bother?

And so I continued drinking. My relationship with alcohol had me both gassed and lit. It was my loyal companion, right beside me in every picture. Until there was only one of us, it made a ghost of me.

My shy and socially awkward self would slip out the back door as my fantastically clever drunk evil twin took her place. She was charismatic, everyone's best friend, and better in every way: funnier, faster, wittier, and even more psychic. My friends called me "the psychic drunk." I'm not sure if I became more intuitive when I was drunk or if I just had no inhibitions about telling people exactly what I thought.

And then, one night on the eve of Halloween, dressed as JonBenét Ramsey (the least of my sins) and holding on by a thread, I found myself hitting bottom in a public bathroom and on the brink of blowing up my marriage and potentially destroy all that I valued. Did I mention that my evil twin was also reckless and horny? I started to pray. Somehow, I managed to pull myself together, get home, and dodge a bullet that could have changed the trajectory of my life forever and not for good. 

The following day, I called Kimi, my one sober friend, and asked her to take me to “one of those meetings.” I was 30 years old. I had tried everything. I could not do this alone and needed help. We met for coffee, and I confessed my roller coaster relationship with drinking so many highs and so many lows. She didn't flinch. She smiled, nodded, and said, "You'll fit right in. 

As we pulled up to the meeting, she informed me, "They're going to invite you to stand and identify yourself as an alcoholic. You don't have to, but it works way better if you do." 

I was not convinced. But when the speaker asked for newcomers, I raised my hand. 

"Please stand," said a voice from across the room. It was surreal. The room was both bright and blurry. I hardly had my footing, but I stood. 

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" The voice asked. I looked down at Kimi, who mouthed the words like an encouraging stage mother, feeding me my lines. "I am an alcoholic."  I nodded, looked back at the room, and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Just air and a few squeaks, my voice was gone. Suddenly, the room began to morph and twist like a Fellini film. All the warped faces looking back at me, whispering, "Just say it." The longer I stood, the louder they got. Until someone yelled from across the room, "Just say it!" With all that I had, I pushed the words out. "I am Maureen, and I am an alcoholic." In that admission, the room lit up like Christmas morning, sounding a communal "Welcome" that knocked me back into my seat.

I felt a vibration run through my body, knowing nothing would ever be the same again. Once you hear your own voice say those words, you can never unhear them. Though I still had no idea how someone could actually stay sober, it sounded as impossible as breathing underwater or walking on the moon.

And telling my friends and family felt like a betrayal. Like I was giving up the Mother tongue. I had been drinking for the better part of my life. Drinking was a massive part of my identity. I was the psychic drunk, for God's sake.

I kept it simple and just did the next right thing. But there were those social events on the horizon that boggled my mind. New Year's, family weddings, funerals, St. Patrick's Day? Seriously, how do these things happen for sober people? I was a people pleaser, and my people were drinkers.

At two weeks sober, I started getting sick, like physically ill.

"You're just detoxing," Kimi suggested when I showed up at our morning meeting nauseous and green. "This will pass, I promise."

It didn't pass; it lingered till day 20, and on day 25, it felt like I had eternal car sickness and wanted to get off the ride. It was around that time that I realized I had also skipped my period. Not that pregnancy was an option. My husband was sterile from chomo therapy. Still, I figured I should at least rule that out. So, on my 30th day sober, I stood up at our morning meeting, accepted a 30-day chip, and promptly excused myself to pee on a stick in the bathroom.

In AA, there is a saying that sometimes God will do for you what you can not do for yourself.

In the bathroom, I stared down at the little blue plus sign.

In AA, there is another saying, "Don't leave before the miracles."

Today is Halloween, my daughter is 27, my sterile husband and I went on to have two more children together, and I am still sober. One day at a time.

If you know someone who struggles, feel free to share the post. My JonBenét confession will make anyone feel much better about themselves.

Love, Maur

Your Turn

Have you faced any monsters? What was your most inappropriate costume? I would love to hear your confessions. :-)

Enjoy the dessert and Invitations.

I sat down with Jack Rome the other day to discuss the upcoming Awake in Stillness Conference. My talk is about the JOY of Now, and here is a sample of the spiritual fun set to ensue on November 9th. LINK TO VIDEO

To enroll in the free conference, use this LINK.

Toast & Jam

In 2025, our theme at SpeakEasy is Toast & Jam, Homegrown Stories, and Song, and we are encouraging people to join us in hosting monthly story and song events in their homes. No matter where you live, everyone loves a little toast and jam.

If you want to fill your home with song and laughter, or if you would like to connect with other singers/storytellers in your area, join us for a year of Toast & Jam. It’s fun, free, and needed. LINK FOR DETAILS

Voice Box

We have a great lineup of storytellers this month at Voice Box, and the ever-awesome Cathy Richardson, Lead singer of Jefferson Starship, will serenade us through the night! TICKETS

Moon Mná

Samhain is the beautiful beginning of the Celtic New Year. Join us for monthly moon gatherings. LINK What to Expect:

✨ Guided Meditation:

✨ Group Discussion:

✨ Rituals: Engage in manifesting, energy clearing, and journaling to align with the full moon's energy and your intentions.

✨ Sound healing: gong bath, sound bowls, rattles, and chimes to help open your intuition and restore your peace of mind.

✨ Celebration: Indulge in delicious, nourishing snacks like dark chocolate and dance to high-vibe music and restorative stretching.

LOVE, Maur