From the April 2011 magazine.

April 2011: Mommy drunkest

A young mother gets a sober second shot at raising her children

"Lying in my bed encrusted in my own vomit, I made the call that was going to change my life."

“You don’t need to go to those meetings anymore,” I often hear. “You haven’t had a drink in years so you must be all right now.”

Indeed, I’ve come a long way since the days when I was a slave to drinking. I remember my final night well. I had long since become sick of waking up to face myself every day. When things had gotten bad in the past, I’d just pull out my backpack and head off to that special place known as somewhere else: Europe, North Africa, the South Pacific, the Caribbean, even North America, it didn’t matter, just as long as it was somewhere else. That’s how I managed living with myself for so many years. I was so preoccupied with the details involved in running away that there wasn’t enough time to take a proper look at myself.

-- S.E.B.

East Hawkesbury, Ontario, Canada

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