(February 1990)

I am the son of an alcoholic; a battered child, terrorised by my father; a rebellious Hell-terrorised teenager; at 25 I attempted suicide and at 41 here I am, a happy survivor. Thanks to Family Groups.

At 15 I was as much of a poet as I was emotionaly disturbed. At 20 I resented both my parents for having made kids without looking after them properly. I wanted to be a parent too; I was not so sure I would do any better than they, I was scared. What was I going to be? I wanted to kill them both and myself as well.

I felt like a corpse that I would have to carry till 30, 40, 50; then I would die and burn in the fire of Eternal Gehenna; it would not be any worse to finish that up right then and make eternity a few years shorter. Nine electric shocks, some fatherly advice, a first time. I survived for 5 years.

In that Christian boarding school where I spent my teenage years, we were told insistently that God was a father to us. I used to say: "Our Father who are in Heaven, you'd better stay there." (Jacques Prévert ) or else I'll fix you. Society was rotten, the system was a mess, the whole world was sick, I did not adapt anywhere, I was at war with everyone, I felt all alone, I did not know what I was going to be and I was afraid.

I had studied Christian writers by obligation of course, not by choice; but I did like literature and that kept me going for awhile; I isolated myself: between two shelves of books in a library I could not argue with anyone, all right. I followed up in college with atheist writers and I did enjoy those: they taught me that I was all alone in this world; that if there ever existed a God up there, either He had forsaken us a long time ago or else He was mocking us in the most stupid manner; in either case, one was not to waste time on such a trifling topic.

I did some traveling-roving on the Pacific Coast; Vietnam war protest, hippies, psychedelic drugs; I was a manual worker in Manitoba (Canada), learned English, tried school again in translation, went mad once more. I did not qualify for unemployement insurance, I wanted no welfare, no mom and dad; I blacked out and ended up in Saint-Michel-Archange Hospital, the asylum; and in the Judeo-Christian mythology, the Archangel Saint Michel was the Keeper of Hell...

The "psy", a true one as it seems to me now, was to be my first spiritual father. He taught me what Hiho's and FG's teach. It seemed to me that I hadn't deserved to be locked up with the mad; but they were the mad and I was I. All I had to do was to come to terms with my own disturbances and let others do the same with theirs; that and only that was already pretty much. To live and let live, one day at a time... Years went by and now I happen to sing: "No, no regrets, I shall have no regrets, for my life and joys start with you people today." (French singer Édith Piaf ).

Listen and learn. I begged you people to listen to me, I had so much to say. You did listen to me and I learned that I was no longer alone in this world. You showed me there was a guiding thread in all my previous wanderings, a Higher Power; I came to believe that "history has a meaning like a stream of water has a direction" (François Mauriac ), that the Universe is unfolding, the world is in motion. Needless to know where all that goes. I acquired a sense of Pilgrimage, that tender deep feeling of going somewhere, of walking along with sisters and brothers who walk the same path. You really are great and wonderful pilgrims.

I can hardly imagine that white-bearded old man above the Sixtin Chapel in Rome, leading the world, but I cannot believe either that evolution will end in a mushroom cloud or some ecological disaster. Your shared sufferings made mine appear less important, I deflated, dedramatised. Water still runs in the St.Lawrence and the earth keeps turning. Thank you for having welcomed me, as confused and disturbing as I may have been. Thanks for being there still. Thanks to Family Groups.

"You are a child of the Universe; no less than the trees and the stars you have a right to be here and wether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should". (Max Ehrman, Desiderata )

"There you are in the middle of our days, you are the spirit of our lives".

...Great Spirit of the Universe, Great Manitou. All I have to do is surrender. Yes I will, I am free today to pledge my word. You, FG members, are in the middle of my days, you are the spirit of my life.

Gulemo, 12&12 Pilgrim, FG private member
Quebec, Canada, August 1998

W hat is consciousness? What is one aware of? I was born in 1948 in a working class township. My parents could hardly read and write. My father was an alcoholic and violent; my mother had depressive moods. By the end of my teenage, I had serious behavior, identity and orientation problems - religious, moral, spiritual (religion was thrown out); sexual, professional, political... A distressing question above all was: "Who am I? What will I do?"

After eight years of progress in Family Groups, I eventually made up my mind to do service work. In the beginners' group in particular, it was not any easier for newcomers than that it had been for most of us to admit our powerlessness (First Step). One or the other would tell us sometimes: "If he doesn't stop drinking, let's keep it simple, I will leave him and go with another man. Who cares about his problems?" And yet, our experience so painfully taught us that, if she does not change her attitude meanwhile, she will find herself living again with the same type of man, or even worse. How many times will some people live through the same patterns before they understand? Such is the merry-go-round called denial. Mentaly ill persons are often the last ones to ask for help...

The Hindus have a name for this, they call it samsara - which is the perpetual cycle of successive reincarnations or, in other words, the continual cycle of repetitious patterns... And how can one pull out of that merry-go-round in order to do away with the samsara? We cannot teach anything to anyone on this topic, only can we tell our own personnal stories and how humility came to us through our sufferings. Many of us were freed at last by prayer and meditation as the Eleventh Step suggests...

A childhood friend of mine had also grown up in a dysfonctional family. His alcoholic father was not violent but his mother was. Moreover, she was an enabler; she managed and carried out all and everyone around by yelling and tearing. Her "drunkard of ahusband", as it was said, had to go where she wanted him to go; not only her husband, but her children as well, and neighbors' children, and neighbors as well, and clergymen - they lived opposite the presbytery and soon, in catholic Quebec of the fifties, she was in very bad terms with religion - and the Company...

By the age of 20, my friend could not bear it any longer. He committed suicide with his father's hunting gun. As far as she was concerned, she never changed her mind nor her mentality, never did she become aware. "Had he done what I told him, this would'nt have happened" she used to say. She thought this was a choice of his and she never admitted to her powerlessness... (First Step). Are not the ways of the Almighty unsoundable? There were neither nor FGs in Quebec in those days. The question which comes to me today is as follows: since both my friend's parents were "sick", would he have ended up committing suicide anyway? It is quite likely that he committed suicide while he was in a deep depressive mood. And it is well known today that psychosis is an hereditary -genetic- neurological dysfonction...

When a neighbor's kid attempts suicide, this is a badly educated or neglected child and, of course, this is none of our problem. But when one of our kids dares do the same, what are we to think of this? Christians say that the most capital of capital sins is pride, which psychiatrists call resistance, negation or denial. Coming to believe in a Power greater than oneself (Second Step) and surrender (Third Step) are not so obvious! And yet...

I have much gratitude for my Higher Power as I can understand Him today for having allowed me to walk the path along with other pilgrims in FGs. Thanks to you folks for having welcomed me and still being there for me today. Together we move forewards. How useful is it to know where all that goes? As everything passes by, we too will pass. As much goes with the wind.

Gulemo
12&12 Pilgrim, FG private member
Quebec, Canada, July 1997