We're All Beginners

FOR a quarter of a century I lived in a world of make-believe. My constant companion was John Barleycorn, and through my association with him, I had grown to believe that my distorted philosophy of life was my own affair and it affected no one else. With this thought uppermost in my mind, selfishness, pride, conceit, arrogance and vanity became my defense against criticism. Drunk or sober, I was always tops in my own estimation. If I made life miserable for others, the fault was theirs, not mine. I had come to depend upon alcohol and I resented interference by anyone. My former friends had all deserted me and the only friends I had were barflies, as long as my money lasted. When the money was gone, I had no friends. I was overcome with remorse and self-pity because no one understood me.