A Thing Called Hope

I AM AN INCARCERATED alcoholic. I am only thirty-one years of age, but have been drinking for nineteen of them. I also began to use drugs shortly after my first drink; however, my preference was always alcohol. Even when I was using another drug, there was always alcohol involved. This part of my story is no different from hundreds of others that I'm sure you have heard. I went through many short-lived jobs, and was kicked out of the worst of flophouses because of my drinking behavior. At one point I chose not to continue to pay the rent on my furnished room (paid by welfare check) because I could keep that much more money to drink with. This was insanity, as it was the dead of winter, and not having friends or any relatives, I made my home(s) between the benches at the Astor Place and Broad Street subway stations in New York City. Whenever a cop would wake me at one and send me on my way, I would head to my other home.