Magazine

From the July 2017 magazine.

About to blow

A newcomer learns to keep the lid on and share to release her crazy thoughts

I cried at my first AA meeting. And I cried some more. Buckets and buckets of tears. Mostly tears of shame and chagrin. I knew I had overdone alcohol. A half-gallon of gin a day had made me careless and sloppy.

My husband was ready to bolt from the home. This was the man I had once thought I would take to court to get alimony and child support. (Yes, in my drunken reveries, I thought that I would become the custodial parent). I fantasized that my husband would be ordered to turn over his paychecks to me and the kids and that he’d go live in an attic somewhere while I went on lapping up alcohol as if it were rain water.

-- Becky G.

Greater Levittown, Pennsylvania, USA

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