An Australian’s Recovery

I had my first taste of alcohol with my parents at 13, later experimenting with the family liquor cabinet when opportunities arose, or I had the inclination. Sherry, port, brandy, wine, beer—it was all the same to me. I drank for the feeling, or absence of feeling, as I came to understand later. I graduated from cupboard sneak to underage parties, and later pubs and bars, priding myself on being the life of a party, and building social capital in an Australian community defined by its devotion to the drink. We joked that we were becoming alcoholics, like the old boys down at the pub who told stories about their glory days, but never seemed to leave the bar.