Letting Go in Florida
Desperation drove me into the rooms of AA on July 10, 1983. It was not my first attempt. I had gotten three months together, moved to Florida, and once again became the important, self-sufficient person I always thought I was. After a year of more drinking, I got fired from my job and was about to become homeless. The desperate can be sweetly willing. So when I finally made it into the rooms, I had no doubts this time. I got old-fashioned, no-nonsense AA, and a lot of love from the old-timers. But this story is not all about me.
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