It happens. It’s happened before. It’s happening today. And it will happen again.
It is when a GA meeting makes me want to gamble. And/or when the (so-called) fellowship dinner at the treatment house makes me want to gamble.
Today, it is both. Rather, would have been both had I gone to the dinner following the meeting.
It was not a good meeting. Not for me. It was for others. The main reason is that a good deal of the shares, input, comments were directed to one person. I am not minimizing her current trouble and story. Rather, I cringe at the enormous amount of time devoted to her. The heapings of support from her friends within the group
They consume precious time. And they remind me that I’m an outsider. Even within my family of GA.
My group is an odd mix of tight cliques and transients by virtue of the treatment house in the area. I am not a member of the cliques, neither am I a transient. I live here, work here (for what that’s worth) and am basically trying to have a life here that is better than the lives of my past.
Many is the occasion, sometimes within meetings but more often at the “fellowship” dinners that follow, where I’m the lone wolf, excluded from conversations, even though I am present and attentively listening. The women are the worst at excluding; however, some men do it too.
Either one of two scenarios occur, depending on the composition. One, I’m sitting there, very present, very attentive and very listening to the others as they talk and none includes me in the conversation. Hell, most of the time, they hardly even make eye contact, they’re so wrapped up with one another!
Again, primarily — but not exclusively — this scenario occurs with the women.
I’m invisible.
The second common scenario is when I’m lucky enough to engage one person, two at most, in a one-in-one conversation and that person talks my ear off. Yak yak yak yak yak. I’m a Giant Walking Ear. A verrry good listener. I don’t just nod and say “yes.” I listen actively. Ask questions. Show interest. Probe. I’m psychologist – therapist – writer – reporter – caring and curious human being all wrapped up in one.
Unfortunately, for me, the same interest is not returned. I can listen for an hour and when the person finishes or the conversation comes to an end for one reason or another, h/she knows little to nothing about me. It’s not a dialogue we’ve had but a monologue … with one speaker and one listener. I could set a mannequin in my seat for as much as the other party knows — or doesn’t know — about me!
I’m invisible.
Invisible and isolated.
These are huge huge huge triggers for me. They are huge huge huge reasons that I gambled and sometimes still want to gamble.
Particular social configurations are worse than others. But “when the gang’s all here” is when I am at my worst. Feeling my worst. I know no one will listen to me or show interest. They show interest only in one another. Their bonds and friendships remind me that I’m on the outside. Looking in.
I’ve never been invited to their parties, lunches, get-togethers and whatever else they do. I’ve never even been asked.
I’ve never been a “joiner.” But I am a person and as a person on the outside, it’d be nice … just to be asked. Even if I can’t attend. Just to be asked.
The stressors in my life are swallowing me up. I do not need the added stress of sitting at a dinner (or in a meeting like tonight’s) with glaring reminders that I don’t matter. That I’m invisible. That people aren’t interested in knowing me, only talking about themselves.
I don’t need the reminder that all the great stuff that I have to offer and am goes for naught. Goes undiscovered. Because no one’s taken the time to get to know me.
I barely got out of the meeting without crying. As they drove to the house for “fellowship” — put in quotes because fellowship by its meaning is inclusive and I am definitely not included, not truly — I had a very strong urge to go to the casino. Not to gamble but rather simply sit there and be entertained by the machines played by others and to drink beer.
But I feared where that might lead … not tonight, but someday. So instead, I went over to Panera for a bite and coffee and company. With my laptop.
It makes for better company than the cliques in GA.
That’s all I’ve got stomach to say tonight.
bad bets 