I don’t know that there’s any way I can express how vexing this story has been to me. The only thing I ever really wanted—as a close second to being drunk—was to be right. Drinking, in fact, made that possible. Drinking pulled my worldview together. I knew who I was: I was a fuck-up. I was a loser. I was a sinner. And the great booby prize of my life was that I understood this, deep in my heart. My sponsor used to put it to me like this: “Never stand between an alcoholic and his misery because he will kill you to get to it.”
Never stand between an alcoholic and his misery because he will kill you to get to it.
I don’t know that there’s any way I can express how vexing this story has been to me. The only thing I ever really wanted—as a close second to being drunk—was to be right. Drinking, in fact, made that possible. Drinking pulled my worldview together. I knew who I was: I was a fuck-up. I was a loser. I was a sinner. And the great booby prize of my life was that I understood this, deep in my heart. My sponsor used to put it to me like this: “Never stand between an alcoholic and his misery because he will kill you to get to it.”
Post a Comment
Post a Comment