Truly Living One Day At A time

The last drink I took was when I was 24 and on vacation in Florida. I remember vividly the days leading up to the trip. I was attending AA at this time, but kept finding myself going back to the bottle after a couple weeks, although sometimes I would manage to string together a few months. With each relapse, my drinking and actions while drinking got progressively worse and worse. My alcoholic brain leading up to the trip was trying to convince me that maybe in a different state I wouldn't be an alcoholic, maybe I could finally practice some "controlled drinking,”