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Grapevine Online Exclusive

Published May 2017.

End Of A Drinking Journey

She drank her way from Massachusetts to Miami and her mother prayed every day that she would be safe.

There is a photo of me at the age two drinking out of a beer bottle with the help of my Dad and Uncle Joe. My first memory of alcohol came with homemade cough syrup. Some whiskey, a squirt of lemon and a teaspoon of honey in a shot glass. Oh, did that taste good! I remember getting mad when my sisters were sick and got “medicine” and I couldn’t have any. It was more than jealousy; I wanted that warm feeling in my stomach along with the sense of calm that followed in my brain.

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Grapevine Online Exclusive

Published June 2017.

After A Relapse, Hope

The voice of AA never left her, even as she hit bottom late one night in her fourth—and last—treatment center

My name is Mary and I am an alcoholic. I can't tell you how much gratitude and hope I have when I say that, because I believe it. I have gone to many meetings and announced myself in that manner, but something deep inside me that I now know to be ego always said: "But I'm not powerless, my life is not unmanageable." What I still hadn't realized in four years of going to three meetings a week or more was the paradox of AA.

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