Sherry* celebrates her first year in recovery today.
*name changed to protect the (not so innocent) gambler
I’ve no place at the weekly fellowship / celebratory dinner taking place … right about now up at the recovery house.
I do not begrudge Sherry her first year clean. Not at all. Not a bit. She’s worked hard and stayed clean through struggles and challenges. Good on her for doing so! Recovery is hard work. It’s not always fun. And certainly not as much fun as gambling — when we closed our eyes and minds to the shit, damage and destruction it wrought.
But! Recovery’s a helluva lot healthier and *saner* than gambling ever was. Or could be!
The truth of the matter is, although I’m a regular GA member, I don’t belong in Sherry’s group. More precisely, her clique.
There’s a clear and dominant clique in GA and she is its ringleader — or damn near so. She’s, I’m certain, unaware of this. However, that’s the nature of cliques. Members can barely see past their own noses and fellow “clique-ers” to those on the outside.
Many GA people circle around her like teens circled around the head cheerleader in high school. We’ve all been there. Seen it. Experienced it. And,in my case, walked on from it.
I’m not much of a joiner and I’m especially not a cliques person! Although a small part of me hates cliques, the bigger truth is that they simply don’t interest me and never have. To me, they’re childish, hurtful, exclusive, judgmental and unkind. Even downright cruel.
The reason for my absence from tonight’s (so-called) fellowship / celebratory dinner goes beyond the GA clique — though that’s reason enough not to attend. And in fact I’ve elected not to attend at other times BECAUSE of the clique.
I also don’t much like Sherry.
She has her good points, of course. Most of us do.
And those who don’t usually end up serial killers, lifetime criminals or some other manifestation of humanity’s evil and sordidness!
What I don’t like about her is she’s two-faced.
I’m *certain* that I’m the only person who sees it. Recognizes it and can identify it. Most everyone else is swept up in her phoniness. It’s not a blatant phoniness. The average person of average to below-average perception and insight would never detect it.
But I do. Loud ‘n’ clear!
So tonight I sat quietly listening as GA members heaped praises and more onto Sherry — some deservedly, some not. I kept my lips zipped through the entire meeting. The meeting morphed into Sherry’s moment in the sun and anything other than felt out of place.
Even if I’d been thiiiiiiiiis close to gambling tonight, I wouldn’t have said a word. None in that room tonight is REALLY my friend. Not really. They’re members of Sherry’s clique. Of which I have no part.
It’s really really sad to me that a fellowship that’s designed to be inclusive is turned into Clique and Outsiders (and/or Outcasts). In my case, I’m both. They’ve never invited me to their parties, get-togethers, social events outside the GA rooms. Not once has someone said: “We’re having a Christmas shindig. Would you like to join us?”
I may say yes or I may say no. But at least have the courtesy to ask and give me the choice!
I’m not included in the clique and I don’t look to be. It’ll never happen. It’d take someone IN the clique to experience that kind aha! moment … that moment of awakening to the clique that they are and how it really has no place in a GA fellowship and perhaps they ought to reach out to *everyone* instead of only select members over and over again.
It’ll never happen.
I’ll never be a member of Sherry’s clique. Will never be invited or included in their outside-GA activities. No member will even think: “Hey, maybe she’s feeling left out. Let’s invite her!”
I wish I hadn’t gone tonight. I really do. Had I known it’s Sherry’s year marker, I’d-a skipped the meeting and headed straight to the pool instead.
The crap of cliques always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Always — when the social setup is (supposedly) fellowship and unity. (Cliques in the workplace or school — whatcanyado? Them’s a losing battle!)
Here’s what I couldn’t do. I couldn’t put on a pretend face. {I leave that to Sherry. Whoops, did I say that out loud?!} I couldn’t heap praises upon her like everyone else. I cut the crap rather than contributing further to it. I couldn’t go sit at a fellowship dinner for her occasion knowing full well that I’d only be ignored, left out, unseen, invisible — again. P.S. I’ve left “fellowship” dinners and/or meetings *wanting* to gamble because of the clique / exclusion.
I chose to be an outsider because I’ve been made an outsider by the Clique. Sherry’s clique.
Instead, I came to a cafe for a sandwich, coffee and writing. A much healthier alternative, for me, than the shit of cliques.
I am certain that I’m not missed. I’m certain that no one’s wondering or caring why I bowed out.
If anyone ever took notice or had strong sensitivities, s/he’d ask. Moreover, they’d come into awareness of the clique that they are and would make amends by if not disassembling it, at least inviting in those whom they’ve excluded.
Again, such awareness and kind action defy the definition of clique.
So congrats again Sherry. (I did verbalize that as I was leaving.) I’m not gonna be two-faced or jump into your play circle or pretend to gush over you or say anything not sincerely felt from my heart. I wish you strength as you continue into your second year of recovery. I know how much recovery has meant to you and will continue to as you grow into a life free of gambling.
Best of luck and may God be with you on your journey.
Sincerely,
Me, a fellow gambler
And to myself: Thank you for taking the honest road. Sherry is not my friend. Not truly. She is, though, like me, an addict to gambling. I can extend my sincere congratulations here in private, knowing that Spirit will deliver them. I’m happier not playing the pretend two-faced game. I’m happier not being depressed, lonely and unseen by the clique that does not exemplify the spirit of fellowship in GA.
I thank myself for my honesty and courage to know what is right and true and to act accordingly tonight. Very often the right path is the loneliest path of them all.
bad bets 