A Traditional 12 Step Aa Meeting - 1879 Words

I went to a traditional 12 step AA meeting. It was a long timers group, which had individuals who have been attending AA for a while now and those who have been sober for at least 10 years or more. It was at Mt. Calvary Lutheran Church, located in Johnstown, Pa. The meeting was from 7:30pm to 8:30pm. They started off the meeting by reading the preamble. The preamble, which was found and quoted from the District 41- Alcoholics Anonymous, Johnstown, Pa website (2015), â€Å"Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from alcoholism. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. There are no dues or fees for AA membership; we are self-supporting through our own contributions. AA is not allied with any sect, denomination, politics, organization or institution; does not wish to engage in any controversy; neither endorses nor op poses any causes. Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety.† After the preamble they had one of the attendees of the group read the 12 steps. The group was composed of both white and African American men and women. The majority of those who were in attendance were males and they were white. A lot of their stories were that they were so depressed that they didn’t know what to do with themselves and that they felt like their lives were falling apartShow MoreRelatedSelf Help For Individuals With Co Occurring Mental Health And Substance Use Disorders1601 Words   |  7 Pagestherapy) as well as self-help groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA). Although there is extensive research focusing on self help approaches for addictive disorders, there is little research regarding how self help group’s impacts individuals with dual diagnosis (Rosenbluma, Matusowa, Fonga, Vogelb, Uttaroc, Moored Magurae, 2014). Literature Review Self - Help The self-help movement, beginning with AA in 1935, has grown to encompass a wide spectrum of addictionsRead MoreA Research Study On Group Therapy1262 Words   |  6 Pagesexperience took place on June 15, 2016 at 5:30 pm at their 325 Deadwood Ave. location. AA is a private organization that focuses solely on recovering alcoholics they are member ran groups that do not accept any outside funding and stay un-opinionated about any outside events. The main focus in AA is to make all alcoholics feel welcome and for membership all that is needed is a desire to stop drinking. Keywords: AA-Alcoholics Anonymous, group therapy, group norms, universal norms, group-specific normsRead MoreEssay True Road to Recovery978 Words   |  4 Pagesdifferent approach. The specific approach taken by each program is what can make or break the success of recovery for an addict. The most popular of these programs are twelve-step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. However, twelve-step programs are not the only options available. Despite their popularity, twelve-step programs lack the personal qualities that some secular programs offer. Whats more is that these programs do not cater to individual needs and differences, therefore limitingRead MoreThe Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting At The Shepherd Of The Hills Lutheran Church1385 Words   |  6 PagesThe Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, otherwise simply known as the â€Å"Golden Key Group AA meeting,† that I attended was held on Saturday, November 8th, in Whittier, California, at the Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran church. To be more exact, it was held in a classroom located at the back of the church property, far from the twinkling, multicolored lights of the chapel in the front. The classroom was overfilled, with many people standing outside, leaning their heads in to listen. Chairs were offered toRead MoreAlcohol And Addiction By Hamish Todd1640 Words   |  7 Pages juice, spirits, liquor, sauces, hooch, moonshine. Alcohol is available at restaurants, bars, ballgames, and most festivals have beer gardens. I’m choosing this drug because I’m a late stage alcoholic. I am a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, a 12-Step Spiritual-based program designed to lead the alcoholic to sobriety. Abstinence is the key and helping other alcoholics is our creed. I enjoyed drinking, since I first tried it at about age 14, by sixteen we were knocking off the beer truck and bootleggingRead MoreA Brief Note On Drug And Alcohol Addiction1668 Words   |  7 Pagesaddicts and many died. She stopped breathing once too, when she was 21 years old. Her boyfriend gave her CPR. She was even arrested; court mandated outpatient counseling, once a week for three months, NA meetings, one year probation. It did nothing for her. She drank the whole time. The traditional treatments used to treat drug and alcohol addiction was not effective then, nor is it effective now, for the new generation of drug addicts. Heroin and every other drug is readily available in Erie CountyRead MoreCase Analysis : The Drug Abuse Essay1820 Words   |  8 Pagesstaying alive on the street, questioning when and how she was going to get her next high, and becoming sober. Now that my client is clean she still has struggles that she faces on a daily basis. Some of them including: steps to continue staying sober, making time to go to NA/AA meetings and coping with past experience The purpose for my Theoretical paper is to research my client’s history of her past drug addiction and research what brought her to this addiction. I will then bring the readers to anRead MoreThe Alcoholics Anonymous Essay2246 Words   |  9 Pagesrecovery. AA has served both men and women and is definitely a task group for those recovering from excessive alcohol consumption. The group common goal is to share experiences, with one another to help recover from alcoholism. The experiences, strength, and hope are what shape the individuals to sobriety. The AA group meets 2 times a week and is ongoing until goal is fully reached. There are two types of meeting open meetings which are for the speakers to share experiences, and closed meeting when onlyRead MoreAlcoholism and Alcoholics Anonymous1851 Words   |  7 Pagesvery difficult for them to accept it even when it interferes with their personal lives and makes it more and more difficult for them to perform tasks that they pre viously had very little problems completing. Through treatment agencies, through the meetings and literature of Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.), and through interactions with significant others and with persons who call themselves alcoholics, the problem drinker gradually takes on an alcoholic identity. (Rudy IX) Although it was initiated asRead MorePsy Evaluation Essay11057 Words   |  45 PagesJoyful Mind; correct answers to those tests have already been posted to the doc sharing portion of the Ecompanion Website. You can use the answers to check the answers you gave on your chapter study tests. Your final exam is on Wednesday, September 12, 2012; You will have from 8:15AM to 9:45AM to complete the final exam. There are no make up dates for the final exam. From Chapter 1: 1. According to Shavelson (2001), author of Hooked, which three words define harm reduction? A. any positive change

Al Ghazali On God s Attributes Essay - 2170 Words

AL-GHAZALI ON GOD’S ATTRIBUTES Al- Ghazali on God’s Attributes God’s divine attributes has been a field that has been studied for a very long time by different religions. Muslim, Jewish and Christian philosophers and theologians have been on the forefront with all efforts aimed at coming to an agreement. Apart from arguments based on the scriptural description of God, there has been a need to understand the divinity and also the nature of the attributes. Philosophers and theologians experienced difficulties on the affirmation of some of the attributes, for example, the divine oneness of God. This also includes arguments that His oneness is simple and cannot be divisible under any aspect. The philosophers also had arguments on God’s eternity and perfection, which had support from the scriptures. Any religious discussion about God brought about several of His attributes such as omnipotence, eternity, omniscience, among others. There is also an issue of anthropomorphism, where God is described as having feelings towards particular subjects. This among other factors raises questions as to whether an assimilation of God to human beings is being made. It became difficult for philosophers and theologians to explain any kind of resemblance between God and human beings without distorting the divinity. This resulted to several more questions, which led to disagreements between theologians and philosophers in the medieval period. A distinction between the three planesShow MoreRelatedIslam s Impact On Modern Day2125 Words   |  9 Pagesbetter) Islam. During the 5th Islamic century, Imam Al Ghazali became one of the most influential thinkers in the history of Islam. Born in Persia, Al- Ghazali lost the shadow of his father early in his life, as at a young age his father had passed away. Al Ghazali’s fathers’ desire had always been for his sons to become scholars and pious people, therefore he had lef t them in the hands of close friend that took responsibility of teaching them. Ghazali underwent many years of education from several differentRead MoreUnderstanding Islam and Muslims Essay2071 Words   |  9 Pagesanswered through research and a visit to the Islamic Center of the Inland Empire. This paper will cover the history of the religion, the history of Al-Masjid al-Ha ram or â€Å"The Holy Mosque, the art, the religious meeting, and personal views of a religious leader. Islam, like Judaism and Christianity, is a monotheistic religion based on the belief in one God. There are two main divisions in the Islam religion, they are Sunni and Shi’a. The separation of the two major divisions of Islam were caused byRead MoreFreedom of Speech, Comparing Freedom of Expression in the Statutory Law and the Sharia Law19992 Words   |  80 Pagesamong Muslims and many of non-Muslims that the Holy Qur’an in the hands of people is the real book revealed by Allah (SWT) to his Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) fourteen centuries ago. The same is the 100% authenticity of certain books of Hadith, i.e. Saheeh Al-Bukhari and Saheeh Muslim. Sunnah is included in the Hadith books. Definition of the Holy Qur’an Nooriddin Antar says: â€Å"Qur’an is the Speech of Allah (SWT) which was descended to His Prophet Mohammad (PBUH), written in the Mos’haf, reported fromRead MoreImportance of Education Knowledge in Islam10950 Words   |  44 Pages The text of the Quran is filled with verses inviting man to use his intellect (mind, intelligence), to ponder (think deeply), to think and to know. To Muslims, the goal of human life is to discover the Truth which is none other than worshiping God in His Oneness. The Hadith literature is also full of references to the importance of knowledge. Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave, and Verily (truly) the men of knowledge are the inheritors of the prophets, and Seek knowledge, evenRead MoreThe Influence of Human Capital on Company Performance: a Preliminary Study of Telekom Malaysia10856 Words   |  44 Pagesshare of the fixed telecommunication services, 39% of the mobile services and 54% of the internet customers in Malaysia custo mers (Malaysian Communication Multimedia Commission, 2004) has to maximize the utilisation ofTelekom Malaysia s resources, especially it s intellectual capital. As a former government department, Telekom Malaysia has inherited the 28,000 employees, all the systems, technologies, business network and customers of Jabatan Telekom Malaysia. In 1996, the value of the human capital

Warm Bodies Chapter 2 Free Essays

After delivering our abundant harvest of leftover flesh to the non-hunters – the Boneys, the children, the stay-at-home moms – I take Julie to my house. My fellow Dead give me curious looks as I pass. Because it requires both volition and restraint, the act of intentionally converting the Living is almost never performed. We will write a custom essay sample on Warm Bodies Chapter 2 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Most conversions happen by accident: a feeding zombie is killed or otherwise distracted before finishing his business, voro interruptus. The rest of our converts arise from traditional deaths, private affairs of illness or mishap or classical Living-on-Living violence that take place outside our sphere of interest. So the fact that I have purposely brought this girl home unconsumed is a thing of mystery, a miracle on a par with giving birth. M and the others allow me plenty of room in the halls, regarding me with confusion and wonder. If they knew the full truth of what I’m doing, their reactions would be . . . less moderate. Gripping Julie’s hand, I hurry her away from their probing eyes. I lead her to Gate 12, down the boarding tunnel and into my home: a 747 commercial jet. It’s not very spacious, the floor plan is impractical, but it’s the most isolated place in the airport and I enjoy the privacy. Sometimes it even tickles my numb memory. Looking at my clothes, I seem like the kind of person who probably travelled a lot. Sometimes when I ‘sleep’ here, I feel the faint rising sensation of flight, the blasts of recycled air blowing in my face, the soggy nausea of packaged sandwiches. And then the fresh lemon zing of poisson in Paris. The burn of tajine in Morocco. Are these places all gone now? Silent streets, cafes full of dusty skeletons? Julie and I stand in the centre aisle, looking at each other. I point to a window seat and raise my eyebrows. Keeping her eyes solidly on me, she backs into the row and sits down. Her hands grip the armrests like the plane is in a flaming death dive. I sit in the aisle seat and release an involuntary wheeze, looking straight ahead at my stacks of memorabilia. Every time I go into the city, I bring back one thing that catches my eye. A puzzle. A shot glass. A Barbie. A dildo. Flowers. Magazines. Books. I bring them here to my home, strew them around the seats and aisles, and stare at them for hours. The piles reach to the ceiling now. M keeps asking me why I do this. I have no answer. ‘Not . . . eat,’ I groan at Julie, looking her in the eyes. ‘I . . . won’t eat.’ She stares at me. Her lips are tight and pale. I point at her. I open my mouth and point at my crooked, bloodstained teeth. I shake my head. She presses herself against the window. A terrified whimper rises in her throat. This is not working. ‘Safe,’ I tell her, letting out a sigh. ‘Keep . . . you safe.’ I stand up and go to my record player. I dig through my LP collection in the overhead compartments and pull out an album. I take the headphones back to my seat and place them on Julie’s ears. She is still frozen, wide-eyed. The record plays. It’s Frank Sinatra. I can hear it faintly through the phones, like a distant eulogy drifting on autumn air. Last night . . . when we were young . . . I close my eyes and hunch forward. My head sways vaguely in time with the music as verses float through the jet cabin, blending together in my ears. Life was so new . . . so real, so right . . . ‘Safe,’ I mumble. ‘Keep you . . . safe.’ . . . ages ago . . . last night . . . When my eyes finally open, Julie’s face has changed. The terror has faded, and she regards me with disbelief. ‘What are you?’ she whispers. I turn my face away. I stand and duck out of the plane. Her bewildered gaze follows me down the tunnel. In the airport parking garage, there is a classic Mercedes convertible that I’ve been playing with for several months. After weeks of staring at it, I figured out how to fill its tank from a barrel of stabilised gasoline I found in the service rooms. Then I remembered how to turn the key and start it, after pushing its owner’s dry corpse to the pavement. But I have no idea how to drive. The best I’ve been able to do is back out of the parking spot and ram into a nearby Hummer. Sometimes I just sit there with the engine purring, my hands resting limply on the wheel, willing a true memory to pop into my head. Not another hazy impression or vague awareness cribbed from the collective subconscious. Something specific, bright and vivid. Something unmistakably mine. I strain myself, trying to wrench it out of the blackness. I meet M later that evening at his home in the women’s bathroom. He is sitting in front of a TV plugged into a long extension cord, gaping at a late-night soft-core movie he found in some dead man’s luggage. I don’t know why he does this. Erotica is meaningless for us now. The blood doesn’t pump, the passion doesn’t surge. I’ve walked in on M with his ‘girlfriends’ before, and they’re just standing there naked, staring at each other, sometimes rubbing their bodies together but looking tired and lost. Maybe it’s a kind of death throe. A distant echo of that great motivator that once started wars and inspired symphonies, that drove human history out of the caves and into space. M may be holding on, but those days are over now. Sex, once a law as undisputed as gravity, has been disproved. The equation is erased, the blackboard broken. Sometimes it’s a relief. I remember the need, the insatiable hunger that ruled my life and the lives of everyone around me. Sometimes I’m glad to be free of it. There’s less trouble now. But our loss of this, the most basic of all human passions, might sum up our loss of everything else. It’s made things quieter. Simpler. And it’s one of the surest signs that we’re dead. I watch M from the doorway. He sits on the little metal folding chair with his hands between his knees like a schoolboy facing the principal. There are times when I can almost glimpse the person he once was under all that rotting flesh, and it prickles my heart. ‘Did . . . bring it?’ he asks, without looking away from the TV. I hold up what I’ve been carrying. A human brain, fresh from today’s hunting trip, no longer warm but still pink and buzzing with life. We sit against the tiles of the bathroom wall with our legs sprawled out in front of us, passing the brain back and forth, taking small, leisurely bites and enjoying brief flashes of human experience. ‘Good . . . shit,’ M wheezes. The brain contains the life of some young military grunt from the city. His existence isn’t particularly interesting to me, just endless repetitions of training, eating and mowing down zombies, but M seems to like it. His tastes are a little less demanding than mine. I watch his mouth form silent words. I watch his face shuffle through emotions. Anger, fear, joy, lust. It’s like watching a dreaming dog kick and whimper, but far more heartbreaking. When he wakes up, this will all disappear. He will be empty again. He will be dead. After an hour or two, we are down to one small gobbet of pink tissue. M pops it in his mouth and his pupils dilate as he has his visions. The brain is gone, but I’m not satisfied. I reach furtively into my pocket and pull out a fist-sized chunk that I’ve been saving. This one is different, though. This one is special. I tear off a bite, and chew. I am Perry Kelvin, a sixteen-year-old boy, watching my girlfriend write in her journal. The black leather cover is tattered and worn, the inside a maze of scribbles, drawings, little notes and quotes. I am sitting on the couch with a salvaged first edition of On the Road, longing to live in any era but this one, and she is curled in my lap, penning furiously. I poke my head over her shoulder, trying to get a glimpse. She pulls the journal away and gives me a coy smile. ‘No,’ she says, and returns her attention to her work. ‘What are you writing about?’ ‘Nooot tellinnng.’ ‘Journal or poetry?’ ‘Both, silly.’ ‘Am I in it?’ She chuckles. I lace my arms around her shoulders. She burrows into me a little deeper. I bury my face in her hair and kiss the back of her head. The spicy smell of her shampoo – M is looking at me. ‘You . . . have more?’ he grunts. He holds out his hand for me to pass it. But I don’t pass it. I take another bite and close my eyes. ‘Perry,’ Julie says. ‘Yeah.’ We are at our secret spot on the Stadium roof. We lie on our backs on a red blanket on the white steel panels, squinting up at the blinding blue sky. ‘I miss airplanes,’ she says. I nod. ‘Me too.’ ‘Not flying in them. I never got to do that anyway with Dad the way he is. I just miss airplanes. That muffled thunder in the distance, those white lines . . . the way they sliced across the sky and made designs in the blue? My mom used to say it looked like Etch A Sketch. It was so beautiful.’ I smile at the thought. She’s right. Airplanes were beautiful. So were fireworks. Flowers. Concerts. Kites. All the indulgences we can no longer afford. ‘I like how you remember things,’ I say. She looks at me. ‘Well, we have to. We have to remember everything. If we don’t, by the time we grow up it’ll be gone for ever.’ I close my eyes and let the scorching light blaze red through my lids. I let it saturate my brain. I turn my head and kiss Julie. We make love there on the blanket on the Stadium roof, four hundred feet above the ground. The sun stands guard over us like a kind-hearted chaperone, smiling silently. ‘Hey!’ My eyes snap open. M is glaring at me. He makes a grab for the piece of brain in my hand and I yank it away. ‘No,’ I growl. I suppose M is my friend, but I would rather kill him than let him taste this. The thought of his filthy fingers poking and fondling these memories makes me want to rip his chest open and squish his heart in my hands, stomp his brain till he stops existing. This is mine. M looks at me. He sees the warning flare in my eyes, hears the rising air-raid klaxon. He drops his hand away. He stares at me for a moment, annoyed and confused. ‘Bo . . . gart,’ he mutters, and locks himself in a toilet stall. I leave the bathroom with abnormally purposeful strides. I slip in through the door of the 747 and stand there in the faint oval of light. Julie is lying back in a reclined seat, snoring gently. I knock on the side of the fuselage and she bolts upright, instantly awake. She watches me warily as I approach her. My eyes are burning again. I grab her messenger bag off the floor and dig through it. I find her wallet, and then I find a photo. A portrait of a young man. I hold the photo up to her eyes. ‘I’m . . . sorry,’ I say hoarsely. She looks at me, stone-faced. I point at my mouth. I clutch my stomach. I point at her mouth. I touch her stomach. Then I point out the window, at the cloudless black sky of merciless stars. It’s the weakest defence for murder ever offered, but it’s all I have. I clench my jaw and squint my eyes, trying to ease their dry sting. Julie’s lower lip is tensed. Her eyes are red and wet. ‘Which one of you did it?’ she says in a voice on the verge of breaking. ‘Was it that big one? That fat fuck that almost got me?’ I stare at her for a moment, not grasping her questions. And then it hits me, and my eyes go wide. She doesn’t know it was me. The room was dark and I came from behind. She didn’t see it. She doesn’t know. Her penetrating eyes address me like a creature worthy of address, unaware that I recently killed her lover, ate his life and digested his soul, and am right now carrying a prime cut of his brain in the front pocket of my slacks. I can feel it burning there like a coal of guilt, and I reflexively back away from her, unable to comprehend this curdled mercy. ‘Why me?’ she demands, blinking an angry tear out of her eye. ‘Why did you save me?’ She twists her back to me and curls up on the chair, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. ‘Out of everyone . . .’ she mumbles into the cushion. ‘Why me.’ These are her first questions. Not the ones urgent for her own well-being, not the mystery of how I know her name or the terrifying prospect of what my plans for her might be; she doesn’t rush to satisfy those hungers. Her first questions are for others. For her friends, for her lover, wondering why she couldn’t take their place. I am the lowest thing. I am the bottom of the universe. I drop the photo onto the seat and look at the floor. ‘I’m . . . sorry,’ I say again, and leave the plane. When I emerge from the boarding tunnel, there are several Dead grouped near the doorway. They watch me without expressions. We stand there in silence, still as statues. Then I brush past them and wander off into the dark halls. How to cite Warm Bodies Chapter 2, Essay examples

Polyphonic Case free essay sample

The following are the reasons: 1 . Polyphonic can provide more demonstrable value to the record Labels. Since the record companies, because of their hefty Investments, have the most to lose If an album or a song does not catches the publics fancy, they are more focused on economic returns than artists and producers. Also, record companies have the financial resources to Invest In Hit Song Science (HAS). 2. Record companies can use the HAS to decide which single to release first. The marketing expense for releasing a single for an unknown artist is a huge $30,000. So record companies can use HAS to identify which song out of an album has the best chance to become a hit. 3. Most of the record companies use gut instinct or expensive internet polling, call-out research, focus-group research to forecast sales. Still, the success rate is Just 10% because this method is not sure-shot. Using HAS will allow labels to eliminate such costs and have a more-definitive method for identifying hits. We will write a custom essay sample on Polyphonic Case or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page B. Since Polyphonic has limited budget ($150,000) but Is catering to record abeles, much smaller In number in comparison to unsigned artists and producers, It can do a lot more In promotion. It can look to give Information In a simpler manner, through websites, to simplify science utility In music to convince skeptics. It can offer free trials for the first 6 months to a few record labels and If Its claim of 80% accuracy is true, that record label will benefit drastically and the word of HAS utility will spread. Also, it should initially price HAS much lower than $3000 of of internet polling rice but increase as it gains mileage NAS 2.Record companies stand to gain more from this technology NAS 3. The success rate of a single becoming a hit without HAS is 10%. The medium estimate of expected values (taking the conservative, safe approach) of a single reaching top 40 Is: $200,000 and a single not reaching the top 40 is: $10,000. So expected value without using NOW, the success rate of a single becoming a hit with HAS Is 80%.