Sober So Young

I had my first drink around the age of 3, which was a shot of whiskey. By the time I was 19, I was suicidal and had blown every opportunity that came across my plate. I had a long resume of drinking screw top wine, dingy $25 motel rooms, vandalism, drunk driving (even before I had a license), and a feeling that the world was a harsh, aggressive, hostile place. I grew up in a pretty rough area in New Jersey. I was very small, as well as sensitive and artistic. This is not a good combination, and was enough evidence for my alcoholic mind to convince me that I was fundamentally flawed and did not belong. As my friend Robin always says, “I was ready for a drink by the time I hit the third grade.”