From the June 1998 magazine.

When Life's on the Line

June 9, 1994 was my personal D-day. I came home and passed out after a three-day drinking binge, and woke up to a knock at the door. It was a detective serving me with a bench warrant. I was sixteen and hopelessly tied to a life of daily drinking.

I longed for the feeling of wonder and well-being that alcohol had given me during my first drunk, though something inside me knew I never could recapture the original experience. But alcohol had me in its clutches. I drank myself into oblivion every night. I had progressively isolated myself from family and friends because I'd become too disgusted with myself to be near anyone when drinking. I was so delusional that I thought my friends were reading my mind and plotting against me by talking in code.

-- Nathan S.

Salt Lake City, Utah

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