Out of the Hole

In July I was sentenced to eight years for robbing a drugstore while drunk. Certainly this harsh sentence would get me sober. But it didn’t. My self-pity was deep. I spent the first two years in jail drinking and using drugs. I became so loaded on a daily basis that it was apparent to everyone. I even tried to commit suicide twice in those last couple of weeks, and failed. The powers that be rolled me up from that prison on drug charges. I went to the prison’s prison—the hole. There, I came to know the loneliness that the Big Book speaks of. I was completely empty on the inside; I had nothing left. I was miserable with the drink and without.