I quit drinking nearly six years ago. I’d known I was an alcoholic for many years, but it took a long time for me to reach the incomparable demoralization that gave me the courage — no, the need — to put down my favorite chardonnay bottle.
It was an April day in 2015 when I quit. I had been “day drinking” at home for several months. I worked from home and when I had no deadlines looming that day, my only real responsibility was keeping the dogs fed and picking my son up from high school.
I fed the dogs each day. I had even picked my son up from school, drunk, when hundreds of kids left through a gate. I could have hit one or many of them, but some higher power kept them safe.
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