I have heard a lot of things about twelve-step programs, positive and negative. Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous have helped millions and I would not, for one second, impugn their importance. With that said, it’s undeniable that twelve-step programs have also been the butt of countless jokes. My theory is that it’s always easy to poke fun at things you don’t understand; that certainly rings true for me, since I have no understanding at all of how these things function.

Last night I was feeling pretty despondent and was having a lot of trouble pulling myself together. It occurred to me that my emotions were controlling me, rather than the opposite, and that I didn’t like it. As I rolled that thought around a bit, it occurred to me that alcohol and narcotics tend to rule over their victims too, and that made me think of AA and NA. I wondered if anyone had ever thought of forming a similar organization for people in my situation. I did a few quick web searches, expecting to find nothing but happy to have a focus for a few minutes.

Imagine my shock when I discovered that there is, in fact, just such a program! Emotions Anonymous is a twelve-step program designed to help people recover from emotional difficulties. I scanned their meeting list and discovered that there was one I could make it to, not too far away, that very night. So, I hopped in the car and got myself there.

I walked into the meeting room with some apprehension. There were only four other people there, so at least I didn’t have to face a big crowd.

The meeting was a bit of a disappointment, really. A lot of time was spent with the “leader” reading a prepared script, then with each of us taking turns reading paragraphs from the Emotions Anonymous handbook. Everyone introduced themselves (“Hello, my name is Scott, and I am powerless over my emotions.” “Hi, Scott!”) and shared how they were feeling. There are specific rules about sharing … must use “I language”, for example. No feedback or comments are allowed. That made me a bit uncomfortable, because despite my tendency toward verbosity, I’m better at dialogue than monologue, at least verbally.

I’m not sure how much reading paragraphs from a book, aloud, can possibly help me. I’m not sure how the trite, oft-quoted Serenity Prayer is going to offer me much solace, either. The rules of the program specifically prohibit giving people advice or feedback, and tend to discourage commiseration and other forms of dialog, so I’m really at a loss right now how this thing could work for me. I have been thinking about this since the meeting ended last night.

In the end, I think that at worst, it’s a wasted hour, once a week. I can afford an hour a week if there’s even a slight chance that it will be of help to me in my recovery from this loss and in my struggle to control the grief and anguish that have overcome me. So, I will be going back. I will write, from time to time, about how it’s going.

Today has not been a great deal better than yesterday, but I am throwing myself into work and other pursuits to keep my mind occupied, and trying my best to go forward.