"Hi, I'm Sera, and I'm an addict."
The woman, dressed in a simple cream floral dress stood up and surveyed the room. It was a smallish room, part of the local church, and there were approximately fifteen people, all seated in a circle.
"Hi Sera," chorused the others in tandem. Most of them were sat up straight, looking at her, but two were slumped over in their chairs, one was quietly weeping and another was stifling a cough, but not doing a very good job of it.
"I'm happy to report that I've spent another week sober," said Sera, looking around the room. At this announcement, a small round of applause broke out. "Thank you," she said, smiling. "That brings my tally to fifty-nine weeks now." She took a deep breath. "It feels really good to say that, you know," she continued, "and I'd like to thank you all again for your support. I couldn't do it without you." A single tear appeared at the corner of her life eye. "When I came to you, over a year ago, I was a mess. I knew it at the time, I know it now as well." The tear began to meander down her cheek, but she didn't attempt to wipe it away. "I sat there, where you are now. I was slumped over, I was feeling about as low as I think it's possible to feel. But I was here. I may have felt awful, but it was a start." She laughed, but it was a hoarse laugh, and not one of genuine mirth. "They say you have to hit rock bottom before you're able to start back up, and that's certainly how I felt. I wasn't living a life; all I was doing was living to get to my next fix. I was getting money any way I could to pay for my habit; I was stealing, begging, scamming, selling, well, you know what, or you can probably guess." She laughed again. "My life was a tunnel, and all I could see was my next high. And it wasn't really a high, if I'm honest. It was just… escape. Sweet escape from the harsh reality of life."
Sera stopped talking for a moment and wiped her eye with a tissue. She looked around and she could see the people, the ones watching and listening, they were nodding.
Of course they're nodding. They've all been there. They all know exactly what I'm talking about.
"So when do you recognise that you've hit rock bottom? A lot of people say it's when they finally see the harm and damage they are doing to their loved ones. But I don't have any. Well, none that I can see, but more on that in a minute. No, for me, rock bottom was a police cell. The cold, stone floor of a cell. The knowledge that I'd tried to sell myself to an undercover officer." She chuckled her mirthless laugh again. "Yeah, that was about it," she said. "I cried all night. It was one of the longest nights of my life. No drugs, just stone and bars. The doctor came to see me the following morning and, I don't know, something broke. Like the floodgates opened. I just told him everything. Absolutely everything. And he listened. For the first time in what seemed like years, somebody actually listened to me. And they didn't want anything in return."
Sera was openly crying now. "He listened to me, and he went and had a conversation with the officer, who then came to talk to me. And he listened, as well. Two hours later, I walked out of the police station with my freedom intact, and a leaflet to contact, well, you. So I did." She chuckled once more. "It took a few weeks to actually get to the point where I could talk to you," she continued, and then, looking at the two slumped over in their chairs, "so don't give up. Persevere, you won't regret it." She paused. "I think the first few weeks were the worst. Detoxing is a complete bitch, ain't it? But I got through it. There were times I thought I wouldn't, times I thought I was dying, but I got through. With your help. And look at me now." Now Sera smiled, but this time it wasn't a smile laced with pain, but a genuine one. "And I think now I'm ready for my next step."
Sera paused once more, looking around the room, drawing breath and courage for what she had to say next. The silence was respected by everyone there, and she smiled again. "I told you earlier I didn't have any loved ones," she said, beginning to choke up again, "but that wasn't quite accurate. I… I have a daughter. I was married, to a lovely guy. The perfect husband, you could say. Only I screwed it up. He hates me now, and with good reason. But I have a daughter. Her name is Rachel, and I haven't seen her for… it seems like since she was born. And I want to see her. This is what I used to get well, her name. Rachel. I told myself if I stayed sober for an entire year, I'd seek her out. Try to re-connect with her. Maybe she'll forgive me, I don't know, maybe she won't. But I have to try, right?" She paused. "I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try. So I won't be here next week. I'll try to find a meeting in Arcadia Bay, 'cos I know how important it is to keep coming, but hopefully, I'll get to see my daughter." She paused. "Wish me luck, and I may be back, I may not, depending how things go. If I'm not back, thank you for all your help, you've been… a godsend."
She sat down, to a warm round of applause from the circle, including, she noted, the two trying desperately to stay unseen.
