Magazine

April 2012: Out of the Doghouse

After years of hiding booze and driving drunk, she made a phone call to save her life

I remember the exact day, time and circumstance when I accepted the fact that I was an alcoholic. I had known for many years that I didn’t drink like other people and that my behavior, when I drank, wasn’t normal. I broke into my boyfriend’s house, destroyed his living room and stole his stereo system, hiding it later in my doghouse. During parties, I hid booze in the bushes so I wouldn’t run out during the night. There were feeble suicide attempts that were nothing more than attention-getters. For the last six months of my drinking, I had a blackout every time I drank. One moment... Login to read more
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