Closed Mouths Don’t Get Fed.

I spoke. Last week the fires raged, and I remember boasting about how I can’t stand cowardice. I said I was going to speak at every meeting. I said that on this blog. Well. When it came time, it turned out to be harder than I thought. The first meeting featured at least 50 people. No way in hell. Just showing up to an in-person meeting was good enough that night. I refuse to hide behind a screen, and I stand by that.

Tonight I did speak. It was still hard. I took my notebook in and did my little journalism thing. There were about 10 of them. They were chill. Completely different vibe than the rowdy cussing crowd of 50 last week.  Everyone spoke and I made peace with the idea that I wasn’t ready yet and that just showing up was enough.

But then the guy with autism spoke. Oh hell no. I’m not keeping quiet when even the autism guy can do it.

We’re talking obvious autism. He began speaking and was smoothing his hair back frantically with one hand and staring at me the whole time. As he talked more, he began using both his hands to smooth back his hair, long and wild strokes. He said that he no longer allows social anxiety and over-stimulation to control him. I respected the shit out of him in that moment. There was another lady who said she’s been in a depressive funk since she got sick recently. Flu or covid has been going around and wiping people out in this community. I respected her too. How easy would it have been to stay home and wallow in her depression? On top of everything else, there’s a mixture of rain and snow happening outside. And she drove here. While feeling all moody and depressed.

So, I knew I was going to speak and I started to get so nervous that I felt on the verge of tears. I remember making a mental note of how weird it was that my reaction to being nervous was to almost cry. I staunchly avoid crying when possible.

I wasn’t even listening to the final speaker, really, because I was holding back tears and working up the courage to open up my face and speak. Finally, I spoke. I was transparent and said I would not say much because speaking is hard for me and that I feel like a kid on day 1 of kindergarten (true), but that NA was recommended to me when I did detox in January and that I’m just checking out different groups when I have time/energy.

I mentioned that a good facilitator at detox said that if you go to support groups and stay silent you are largely wasting your own time because the idea is community engagement and forming connections. They were all really nice. Asked me if I want a phone list. Yes, I said. And then the guy next to me smiled and said there’s actually a saying for this, which is apparently “closed mouths don’t get fed.” I found this amusing and told him as much.

This theory is opposite of what some people in AA have said. They say keep your mouth shut and listen when you’re new. Well, in reality…I’m not exactly new. I did a lot of zoom AA’s during covid. I have kept my mouth shut and listened plenty. Maybe shut it at first for a while when you are truly new, but there comes a time to speak.

Those covid-era zoom meetings are the exact reason I won’t do them again. They don’t do jack shit. I went back to drinking my face off. There’s no accountability or connection there. Maybe for some people there is. Not for me. Nothing is easier than getting annoyed by someone and hitting that little X at the top to close it out.

Anyway. I did it.

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