From the September 2017 magazine.

No Going Back

After a long, difficult drive, she finally reached the ocean. This time, she was determined to change

My world had become very small, so small that it could fit inside an airplane-sized vodka bottle. But I wouldn’t be flying anymore. Fear of exploding into flaming debris at 30,000 feet, among a growing list of other debilitating anxieties, had drowned any desire I had to explore my world. So I stayed inside and drank my way out.

Life hadn’t always been like this. I hadn’t always been a type-A alcoholic struggling against a stressful job. I hadn’t always logged 65-hour work weeks and spent nights and weekends holed up in the house, living on vodka, cigarettes and pot, just trying to decompress, avoiding friends, family and social interactions of any kind. I hadn’t always been too drunk to answer the door.

-- Stephanie B.

Albany, New York, USA

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