I Was Nine People. . .

I WAS nine people when I came into AA. My personality wasn't split. It was shattered. One wanted a drink. Another kept shrieking at the first, and the other seven were either too petrified to move, or they were dead. But once they had all had fun--sitting in a dirty apartment cracking jokes with each other, driving in blackouts, getting chased by the police, coming-to while waving money at the police, cracking up the car, throwing things, banging on doors in the middle of the night, looking at the ceiling too sick to move, waking up surprised at being alive the next morning.