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The thought never occurred to me that sobriety could be emotional until I saw the January 2004 Grapevine. Once my obsession with alcohol subsided, all that remained was the emotional wreckage caused by thirty-five years of anesthetizing my feelings. As I started to thaw out, I came to understand that I didn't know "me" at all. So, here I am at age fifty-one, a complete and total stranger to myself. I can only compare that feeling to jumping out of a plane from 3,000 feet; it was positively terrifying. The good news is that there was a parachute available to stop the fall--Alcoholics Anonymous. After reading the "Twelve and Twelve" and the Big Book, I knew I could land on my feet if I just followed the suggestions on those pages.