club east indianapolis

helping you put your life back together one piece at a time

Oh, man. More than a few have been here before. At least Paul W is honest about it. Sigh…

12 the hard way

I got drunk Saturday afternoon.  Three twenty-four ounce cans of Old Milwaukee’s Best Ice Beer.  That’s what it took to black out, scream at and terrify my wife and daughter, throw up repeatedly and piss the bed.  Sunday was spent in the basement on the guest bed, which will once again become my regular bed, which is what I deserve, as I can’t seem to find a place in this world that doesn’t make me want to break down and cry. Two and a half years down the toilet.

It’s not a drinking disease; it’s a thinking disease.  And even though I read from the Twenty-Four Hours a Day book Saturday morning, and went to a ten a.m. meeting, if I don’t truly engage in this program, what’s any of it matter?  I can’t recall the last time I called my sponsor, or met with another alcoholic outside…

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