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September 1988

If You Can't Live Or Die, Make Coffee!

It has been said in these rooms that, if we all threw our problems into one pile and walked around it for a while, we'd each reach in and take back our own problems. As an active alcoholic, I wish I had a nickel for every time I found myself in that state of utter despair. God help me! What can I do? I've alienated everyone I know who means anything to me; I don't know how to behave among normal people; and I can't stop drinking! I wish I could change everything, change everyone, so things could be better. I thought I knew the answers, but for some inexplicable reason nothing seemed to work out. Everything in my life seemed to be getting progressively worse when all I wanted was to make it better. I saw that I couldn't live this way, but there seemed no other way that I could live.

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