Their Perfect Gift to Me

OVER THE PAST thirty-six months, since I put the bottle down, I have been pondering my character defects that went hand in hand with alcohol. A basic problem for me had always been a yearning heart and a restless mind. I looked at the possessions of others, and I wanted things I could not have. I gazed at travel posters, and I wanted to be in places where I could not go. I listened to people who were known and admired by many, and I wanted to be someone I was not. There was a basic dissatisfaction with my life. I was, quite simply, unwilling to be who I am.