Page 215 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
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                                                              (3)

                                                 WOMEN SUFFER TOO

                                          Despite great opportunities, alcohol nearly ended
                                       her life. An early member, she spread the word among
                                       women in our pioneering period.



                                              hat was  I saying...from far away, as if in
                                     W  a delirium, I heard my own voice—calling
                                     someone “Dorothy,” talking of dress shops, of jobs
                                     . . . the words came  clearer... this sound of my own
                                     voice frightened me as it came closer... and sud­
                                     denly, there I was, talking of I knew not what, to
                                     someone I’d never seen before that very moment.
                                     Abruptly I stopped  speaking. Where was I?
                                       I’d waked up in strange rooms before, fully dressed
                                     on a bed or a couch; I’d waked up in my own room,
                                     in or on my own bed, not knowing what hour or day
                                     it was, afraid to ask... but this was different. This
                                     time I seemed to be already awake, sitting upright in
                                     a big easy chair, in the middle of an animated con­
                                     versation with a perfectly strange young woman who
                                     didn’t appear to think it strange. She was chatting on,
                                     pleasantly and comfortably.
                                       Terrified, I looked around. I was in a large, dark,
                                     rather poorly furnished room—the living room of a
                                     basement flat. Cold chills started chasing up and
                                     down my spine; my teeth were chattering; my hands
                                     were shaking, so I tucked them under me to keep them
                                     from flying away. My fright was real enough, but it
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