Gratitude vs. Reality

'Any one else?'

There was silence in the room. A moment of reflection and hesitation. The sound of the lumber cracking in the fire place, one could have heard a pin drop.

' I will ' a very tiny voice came from behind the door. All turned to see, there she was, a lovely woman in her thirties dressed in a grey power suit. She had a matching ensemble with a large grey handbag and pointed stilletos that looked pricey. She held the door like her life depended on it, like she was terrified to move. She took a moment to compose herself after which she began walking to the front of the room. 

As she approached the podium, her features became clearer, she was blonde, very early thirties with a very sophisticated look. She wore what appeared to be reading glasses and had her hair wound up in a bond at the back of her head, which made her look like a librarian, or at least someone educated.

She had captivated everyone's attention by the time the she reached the podium, it seemed also that that she had gained her poise and confidence back and she stood still to adjust her jacket before she began to speak....

' Hello everyone, my name is Emily and I'm an alcoholic'

' Hello Emily' the room chorused.

' I've been sober for 3 years, 1 month, 25 days...' and looking at her watch, she finished her sentence, ' 13 hours, 42 minutes and 15 seconds'. She looked to the crowd and there were several nodding heads of approval.

' I'm here today because I'm at a crossroads in my life.' She held her breath for a bit and continued ' It seems the last time I was truly happy was 3 years, 1 month 25 days, 13 hours 43 minutes plus change. It seems to me, the last time I was truly happy was the night before I was taken to rehab when I was at a bar on Stanton Avenue have a bloody mary. I always thought with sobriety came the joy of being  "normal". I believed that no matter how hard the 12 step plans were, the rejection of those who couldn't forgive you for the pain you caused while you were a drunk, and no matter how many jobs would be refused you because of your addiction, that no matter how lonely it became when all friends and love ones departed,...that at least, there would be this joy in me, the joy of sobriety, the joy of being able to say NO to alcohol' 

She sighed.

'Alas, I was wrong...All i feel is emptiness and its been edging me back to the drink'. She paused, her words faint towards the end of the sentence. It sounded like she choking off tears in her throat.
'Nothing works... everything is just dull and feels meaningless...' she wiped a tear from under her glasses frame while her lips began to tremble as she was loosing her composure. Her eye layered in tears, she began to bite her lips as she leaned on the podium for support.
'I've tried EVERytHING...' she broke the silence as she burst into tears. She sobbed.
The man leading the meeting started towards her as though to comfort her but she caught a glimpse of him in the corner of her eye and motioned for him to stay away. She stood back up, wiped her tears and reached for her handbag. She rummaged furious through it until she located an item in her bag. Her face lit up instantly, she pulled on it triumphantly and with stance that could only be described as that of a warrior holding on it the captured enemy flag, she stated
'Everything.... except this!' pulling out a large bottle of whiskey