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November 22nd, 1981
Absurd day. I awoke this morning with a horrible pain in my hip— barely able to walk. I just go back from St. Vincent’s emergency room. X-rays revealed nothing. They made an appointment at an orthopedic clinic for me tomorrow.
While lying in the emergency room waiting for x-rays, I dozed off in the tranquil morning light. It felt so peaceful— so protected— I longed to stay. I wanted to be hospitalized.
I spent the entire day wallowing in my bed of pain— old movies and self-pity wrapped up on the sofa. Tonight I made myself get up and go for hospitality at Washington Square. I’m so glad I did. Tony spoke. His life was a nightmare. I stare at his face and marvel at the miracle of his sobriety. There is much talk tonight about pain in recovery and the difficulty and necessity of facing it. Tony said it’s like frost bitten limbs that ache as the feeling begins to hurt. I remember as a child having terrible leg pains at night— and my parents telling me they were growing pains. Afterwards we all went for coffee. Tony is such a remarkable wonderful man. We like each other and that makes me feel real good inside.
Tonight I am very glad to be sober. I am thankful, grateful. I view the spirtuality of the program with a suspicious eye. All I Know is that if I don’t drink and go to meetings, my life will get better. I am willing to go through this pain— because I know what is on the other side. It shines in Tony’s eyes.