A moving account of what it's like to be a recovering alcoholic seeking help

LOOKING around the meeting on Monday evening, it was difficult to tell what had brought these people together.

As one member of the group passed around tea and coffee, men and women of varying ages chatted and chuckled about their day.

In fact, only the literature dotted about the table in front of me gave any indication that I was attending one of Warrington's several Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) sessions.

Because the stereotypical alcoholic - the shuffling, unkempt, watery-eyed middle-aged man in a scruffy suit - was nowhere to be seen.

It might come as a surprise to hear that nearly 40 per cent of AA participants are women.

But then alcoholism is an illness that can affect anyone - male, female, young, old, rich, poor, black or white - and AA meetings are open to anybody who has a desire to stop drinking.

I was invited to gain an insight into the fellowship' and see how it works.

It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life, and certainly not a comfortable hour-and-a-half.

I can only imagine the strength it must take to announce to a group of strangers that you are an alcoholic and admit that you have a problem by sharing your story or, for that matter, the courage to go along in the first place.

After a brief welcome to myself and another man, who was making his first visit, the chairman - a role that rotates as the group has no formal leader - introduced a guest speaker from another group.

Over the next 20 minutes, the woman told her story with great enthusiasm and clarity, but it was the first of many that made for very difficult listening.

At times I felt like I didn't know where to look, because in everyday life it is rare to hear people bare their soul with such honesty.

But it was incredible to see the way the members of the group listened so attentively, identifying with elements of other people's lives and drawing inspiration from the fact that they were able to overcome their addiction.

The group has one primary purpose: to carry its message to the alcoholic that still suffers.

The tales that we heard - of lost friends, families, jobs, homes and health, both physical and mental - were shockingly vivid.

The lies that these men and women had told to sustain their drinking and the lengths to which they had gone in order to drink were so surreal that the memories occasionally raised a hollow laugh from the other members, who could identify with experiences that were only too real.

But what seemed to be the key to the whole process was that the harrowing nature of these events made the sobriety of their retelling all the more inspirational.

From those for whom it was a matter of months to others who had gone some 30 years without drinking, these people had admitted they were powerless over alcohol.

And, one day at a time, they had come back from the brink.