Magazine

August 2011: Slim to None

After several days in a cheap motel, he wasn't betting heavily on his chances for sobriety

"I did what any good drunk would do: I checked into a cheap motel and bought a bottle."

By the time I reached 60, I figured my chances at finding any real happiness or peace were slim to none. It was a matter of living with what I had created and waiting for the sand to pass through the hourglass.

I had just been asked to leave my home and was living in a motel, trying to regroup from a failed marriage and figure out my next move, when my old pal alcohol caught up with me. After a ten year stretch without him, he was right back in the driver’s seat, ruining my life again. I had stopped drinking to save my third marriage. Then, after convincing my spouse that it was... Login to read more
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