The Seeds of Treatment

In February of 2002, my family poured me into treatment. As I recall the events, I did not want to go, not really, but it was a last-ditch effort on my part to save my job. I was a high school English teacher who had been “drunk-on-the-job” literally for the entire month of January. Clearly, I was out of control, but in my own alcoholic mind, there were a lot of days when I really wasn’t “that bad.”