Chinese Food, Serenity and Five Years of Sobriety

I would take a drink, and then I knew everything was going to be all right. I was going to clean up my act; everything was going to change—you’ll see. It didn’t; nothing changed. I tried so many ways of beating the game: I went to church and took a pledge; I went to a Native sweat lodge; I would do something so I would be put in jail; I vowed to st

Being sober in a room full of drunk strangers emboldened me to act insane. I approached partygoers and introduced myself as someone from the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

I knew AA worked miracles. What nobody ever tells you is that miracles can be very, very uncomfortable.

I don’t know if I really need a program that deals with addictions—I wouldn’t go that far—but at the same time, just in case, I know that I could do something to learn to manage better, to perhaps train my body to only want a bit—a can of lemon-tinted beer or two, no more—and to not disappoint me with another blackout.