In aftercare last night the topic was "overcoming our fears." Even though our fears can become almost palpable, most of those in the group agreed that fear resides in our minds.

One client, for example, talked about fears concerning his three grown children. He had a relationship with them, but he wasn't sure they really loved him. He was afraid that once he was around for a while they'd discover who he really was and wouldn't want him in their lives. And, of course, the group jumped all over him – in a loving way – about his attitude.

"Do you think they'd have you in their lives now," one group member asked pointedly, "if they didn't care about you?"

"Yeah, but I'd like to be sure," the man replied.

"A simple thing you might try," the group facilitator interjected, "is to maybe just ask them how they feel about you."

The man had a puzzled look on his face, as if that were something that he hadn't considered.

"You mean just ask them?"

"That simple," the facilitator continued. "After all, what's the worst that can happen?"

"I'm not sure," the man replied. "Maybe I won't have a relationship at all if I ask that question."

"What's your gut tell you?" A longtime group member asked. "What does your heart tell you? You really believe these kids would let you back in their lives if they didn't care?"

Various group members gave the man feedback about his attitude. The consensus was that he which should take a risk and ask his children how they felt. Another man, with even more insight, suggested he sit down with his children, either one at a time, or together, and tell them of his fears. Tell them about his disease and how it sometimes affects his outlook. Tell them about how insecure he feels and that he wants to have an open relationship with them. Let them know that he's a vulnerable human being and that he needs their support as he moves along in his recovery.

Group members suggested that as he becomes transparent with those he loves he'll remove the mystery about himself. They might realize he descended into the muck of alcoholism and drug addiction because he didn't deal with a lot of these issues when they were much younger.

The group facilitator had an observation of his own. He said he'd once heard a saying that stuck with him: "many of us would rather live with a known misery, than take a chance on an unknown joy." His believed this client's fears might be summed up in that saying.

Before the group closed, the client said he would take the their suggestions and have an open conversation with his children. And he promised to let the group know how it worked out.