Stumbling Into AA

By the time I reached Alcoholics Anonymous in 1989 at the age of twenty-six, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I was a hopeless alcoholic, totally incapable of sustaining even short periods of sobriety. On a weekly basis I was consuming volumes of bourbon, beer, tequila, vodka, and anything else within arm's reach. I needed two beers in my morning shower just to stop the jitters. I couldn't fall asleep at night unless I had at least a few shots of bourbon before bed. I had given up on trying to remember my actions while drinking, preferring instead to simply tell those I'd offended the previous night not to bother with the humiliating details of my behavior; they should simply know that when I was drinking, I was incapable of the most rudimentary concepts of acceptable behavior.