"Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."
Isabelle Lightwood joined a cult.
Technically, it wasn't a cult, but it certainly felt a lot like it. There was all of this talk about taking these twelve steps to find serenity.
Still, she found herself going back to meetings anyway. There was just something cathartic about talking to people who actually get it. Of course she knew that her friends and family loved and supported her, but no matter how hard they tried, they would never understand what it feels like to be an addict. Even Simon, who recommended the program in the first place, couldn't relate from a place of first hand experience.
Also, she'd never really realized how addiction was such a touchy subject. People don't want to talk about it; it makes them uncomfortable. Instead, they'd much rather walk on eggshells and ask her if she was okay in that voice. She hated that voice. It was like they were afraid that she would break if they said the wrong thing. She felt like she went from being a badass demon killing warrior to being a cautionary tale, and she hated that.
However, when she went to meetings, people listened and understood. They were all armed for battle and ready to help her fight her own inner demons.
She found herself enjoying the fellowship and the meetings, but there was still one lingering pain: the 12 steps.
The first step was relatively simply. Sure, at first she tried to convince herself that she could control it. She told Raphael that she could have less and less over time. She could make herself think "this time is the last time." But then she realized that she really was powerless and her life was completely in shambles. She didn't recognize the person she'd become, and she wanted to find the old Isabelle once again. Step one was a success.
Step two, on the other hand, was another story.
She didn't come from a particularly religious background. She wasn't sure that she necessarily believed in a god or a "power greater than [herself]" as the program chose to phrase it. Sure, there were some Shadowhunters who prayed to the Angels, but she never felt as if their job was to "restore her to sanity." That was supposed to be her job and her job alone.
Attempting to explain this to her sponsor was futile.
She was an older woman called Karen who'd been sober for longer than Izzy had even been alive, and did not have a lot of patience for her methods being questioned. In fact, when Izzy would attempt to challenge the older woman on the phone, Karen's response was often simply hanging up after saying "if you won't listen, then I️ won't talk." And she thought that being a Shadowhunter was hardcore.
That was how, after weeks of arguing, Isabelle found herself kneeling at the edge of her bed. Her face was streaked with tears as she clasped her shaking hands together. She was experiencing a craving and it was a bad one. Maybe she really couldn't fight this on her own.
"I️ don't know if I'm doing this right or if you're even listening," she said, looking up toward the ceiling.
She took a deep breath.
"But what I️ do know is that I'm powerless. I️ am grateful for the gifts that I️ have been given but...but this is one demon that I️ just can't seem to kill. So, this demon, my own, my addiction...I️ ask for your help in fighting it," she prayed.
She then allowed her forehead to rest on her knuckles, taking more deep breaths. She didn't know what she was waiting for or if she was even waiting at all. She just knew that she had to hold onto the hope that the Angels would hear her plea and give her all of the strength that she needed.
