A.A. in Prison: Inmate to Inmate. Anonymous

      All my life, I had said many prayers. Most of them went something like this: “Please God, get me out of this jam! And I promise to be good!”

      Each time they shoved me in the back of a police car, I prayed. Each time the metal door in the cellblock slammed, I prayed. Each time I stood in front of the judge, I said, “God, I will never do wrong again.” I meant it too. That’s the sad thing. I honestly wanted to stay out of trouble. But I did not see the real problem: Me.

      I began drinking and doing drugs at the age of 11. At first, I did it to fit in. Then I tried to escape feelings of loneliness and less-than. I had felt like that as long as I could remember. This led me to hurt others, and hurt myself. Those actions brought on guilt and shame. Then I drank to escape those feelings.

      This progressed, as alcoholism always does: I was drinking and using every single day. I found myself living on skid row. By now, I was drinking to stay alive. I was 31 years old. I didn’t know any other way to live. I had a huge hole in my soul. I could no longer imagine life with or without alcohol. I was at the jumping off place: The place that the Big Book talks about in “A Vision for You.”

      Early one morning, I was alone in a hotel room. The pain was too much for me. I was crying and I sank to my knees. My prayer was simple: “God, I can’t go on like this. I don’t know how else to live. Please help.” I still kept drinking and using. But I believe that prayer was my surrender. Two weeks later, my Higher Power answered my prayer. The answer came in the form of the city’s finest—the Honolulu Police Department. I was arrested once again. And off to jail I went.

      But this time it was different. There was a change deep within me. I had a more open mind. I was going to do two years in prison as a repeat offender. I applied for treatment “classes.” I wanted to look good for the Parole Board. But I also started going to the prison’s A.A. meetings. I brought my paper along so the secretary could sign it. By the grace of my Higher Power, this started my recovery. It was my return from a hopeless state of mind and body.

      The supervisor of my treatment classes was a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. We met three mornings a week. She would share her experience, strength and hope with us. She was a lot different than me. Her bottom involved falling off barstools in high-class clubs. She slept with a few strangers. I could not relate at all. And then she started talking about her feelings. How she felt lonely and less-than. How she felt angry and afraid. She could have been talking about me! She also shared about her life being sober. She spoke of the beauty of recovery. I began to have some hope.

      Many prisoners used the A.A. meetings to hook up with their girlfriends. The women lived in other housing. So at times, I didn’t want to go to meetings. There was a lot of cross talk and arguments. But I started really listening to the readings. I listened closely to “How It Works.” I even offered to read sometimes.

      One night we had an outside speaker. It was a woman about my age. She told a story that was a lot like mine. She talked about the confusion and depression in her life. She talked about what happened that changed her life. And she shared the miracle of her life today. I felt another seed of hope planted. I started praying each night. I used the Serenity and Third Step Prayers. At first, I couldn’t remember all the words. So I wrote them on a little piece of paper. Then I read them over and over. At last, I could remember them. I also read the Big Book, especially the stories. I began to see that I was an alcoholic.

      After four months, I was released to a state work program. I would be there instead of in prison. I was scared to death. In the past, every time I got out, I would do the same thing—go right back to my old hangouts. But this time, I found a meeting close by. I started attending on a daily basis. I knew this: If I didn’t begin to work the A.A. program, I would not stick around. My Higher Power knows just what I need. Angels were placed in my path. They showed me that this program really works. It has been four years, three months and 27 days since I walked out of those prison gates. I have never had to go back. I haven’t had a drink or drug in that time. I have not hurt anyone on purpose, even myself.

      In the beginning, I heard someone say, “If you want what we have, then do what we do.” I took that to heart. I know how to drink, steal, lie, and cheat. I know how to use people, and how to let people down. I don’t know how to live life. Here was a group of people who were staying sober. They were learning how to live life on life’s terms. I joined a home group. I got a sponsor. I began working the Twelve Steps. I began doing service. And, no matter what, I didn’t drink.

      Today, I am becoming a woman I never thought I could be. I have a job. I also go to college part-time. I’m mending my relationships with my family, especially with my daughter. I had abandoned her 13 years ago; I couldn’t take care of her. I am learning how to be a friend among friends, a worker among workers. Most of all, I am a grateful member of Alcoholics Anonymous.

      This is my message to anyone who is struggling out there: If I can change, then anyone can!

      –Elizabeth B., Honolulu, Hawaii