Night two of holding silence. I went to a Kansas City meeting. Parked the new Mercedes two blocks away and wore shabby clothes.
The meeting was about "In times of illenss".
The discussion gravitated to antidepressants. I was one of the few people not on them. But there was a kid there who was thinking about it. At the smoke break he and I chatted and went for coffee.
He has three weeks and his counselor is pushing hard for him to take something. While I didn't reveal my years clean I told him I didn't take anything. He was quite intrigued, having never met a non-antidepressant addict in recovery.
He and I are having dinner before tomorrow nights meeting, on my nickle, at Red Lobster. I take all the crisp ones to Red Lobster. Something about seafood makes for bonding.
Apparently he wandered into a county detox, started going to group and got a counselor. The counselor is convinced that all addicts need antidepressants to get clean. But he says he really doesn't feel all that depressed, outside of losing his job and girl over drugs.
But they really don't want him to keep comming around if he doesn't get with the "Treatment Plan".
So that was last nights meeting.