Pandora's Box

I was thirty-three when I feebly and reluctantly knocked on the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous. I was open to anything because I was completely baffled by the collapse of my unhappy life. I had started life with such enthusiasm. Yet here I was with two black eyes (from falling down in a blackout) and fifteen stitches, a marriage and a job in jeopardy, and a landlord who wanted me out. What had happened to the spirit of adventure I'd started life with? I was clueless that day in September 1975.