Cups of love

In my first year of sobriety in 1985, my dad gave me one of his Big Book first editions. I went through it to read the stories that were dropped in later editions. “The Unbeliever” instantly resonated with me because the author described just how I felt. My mind, my thoughts, seemed to be always racing. They never stopped. It was like being stuck on a horrible amusement park ride that I could not get off of.