On Thursday i ended up at the nation on southbank, leaving the theatre at 11pm, my phone dead and no house keys. my flatmates were all in, this wasn't the end of the world. an inconvenience for them if they were asleep but not the end of the world. but i fucking spiralled. i had a panic attack on the tube, i stood up on the empty carriage because i didn't deserve to sit down, thinking about all the stress i would cause everyone, how it would be the end of my life in some small way. i was reminded of being blackout drunk and high and stumbling home with no phone along the thames, somehow finding my way home. it reminded me of the years i spent doing that in my hometown, sleeping outside because i was too fucked and ashamed to go in, blacking out in the car. i couldn't go in. i had already planned where i would sleep outside, which bit was safest on the street. but my legs took me to my flat and after much hand wringing, for one second i thought: what would i do if this was one of the girls? and the truth was: answer the door. let them in. be inconvenienced but not furious. and so i rang the bell. and the craziest thing - they let me in. all i had to do was ring the doorbell and they let me in.
AA felt like the first doorbell i ever rang. and i shared that today at my meeting (one that takes place in the morning, in the woods) and everyone loved it and i felt lighter and reminded to keep on ringing doorbells. i deserve to go in.
