I went to my third LifeRing meeting last night. LifeRing is a secular addiction support group. Meetings are spent talking about how your previous week was, both the bad and the good, and what is coming up next for you. I hear stories of people being arrested, in 13th step programs, losing their houses, losing their jobs, losing their families, blowing up their lives. Then it’s my turn to share and all I can do is whine about not being able to go on a friend’s birthday bar crawl this Saturday.
Everyone in the room acknowledged that we all go through different struggles and that they are all valid but I still left feeling like an imposter.
Where are my people?
I’m looking for the former partiers. Bloody Mary brunchers, bar hoppers, summit beer havers. People who loved craft beer like a groupie loves a band. People who understand the comfort of your neighborhood pub.
I’m still at the stage where I’m mourning the loss of my former life. I miss it and I want it back. I need someone to commiserate with. Someone my age, not married, no kids. She has to be out there somewhere.
I want a double IPA so fucking bad right now.