Grapevine Online Exclusive

On the Shoals of Despair

She listened when a friend told her to ask for help

I spend so much time in my head, I fear that I will just start talking to myself. I'll become like the women I see on the street muttering, arguing with themselves, and then demanding spare change. Sometimes I can feel the veneer which separates us slipping. I catch myself moving my lips as I enter a bathroom stall or leave the elevator. Self-reflection has become my hobby—sometimes morbidly so. As I slide further into middle age, I become aware of the ever increasing number of things I may never do again or I may never do at all.

I am in the process of dissolving my fifth marriage, I have spent most of this past year caring for my father as he slid further into his dementia, I have had to undergo some unpleasant treatment for my own health issues, and as a result of my health I have had to give up a career that I loved. Accepting all this and my own aging process is part of the self reflection I am sure. I often ask myself the question we spend our life answering: who am I?

This is a preview. To view the full article, use the link below to begin a free 7-day trial!

Related Items:

Sometimes Quickly, Sometimes Slowly
It took over 20 years for him to hear the message of AA, but he did hear it

From Cocktails to Chaos
Drinking for her never did resemble the social hours she saw in her childhood home

A Sober Circle
She was able to build strong relationships with family and friends

Paint Thinner Blues
He was planning on spiking his whiskey but God was planning something else

Subscribe