At first, alcohol was magic. Then it was medicine. At the end, it was just madness.
Cry and we’ll all cry with you. Drink and you’ll drink alone.
I was a social drinker until the age of 12.
I take what I like to call “immaculate footsteps”—not doing actions that will require me to have to make amends later.
At 9 years sober, I decided I could drink expensive red wine with gourmet dinners. Fifteen years later, I was drinking cheap wine from Costco, wishing I was dead every day.
A meeting where anything goes, nobody goes.
