Page 218 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

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WOMEN SUFFER TOO 203
attended by memories of what I had been, what I had
expected to be. And the contrast was pretty shatter­
ing. Sitting in a Second Avenue bar, accepting drinks
from anyone who offered, after my small stake was
gone, or sitting at home alone, with the inevitable
glass in my hand, I would remember, and, remember­
ing, I would drink faster, seeking speedy oblivion. It
was hard to reconcile this ghastly present with the
simple facts of the past.
My family had money—I had never known denial
of any material desire. The best boarding schools and
a finishing school in Europe had fitted me for the con­
ventional role of debutante and young matron. The
times in which I grew up (the Prohibition era immor­
talized by Scott Fitzgerald and John Held Jr.) had
taught me to be gay with the gayest; my own inner
urges led me to outdo them all. The year after coming
out, I married. So far, so good—all according to plan,
like thousands of others. But then the story became
my own. My husband was an alcoholic, and since I
had only contempt for those without my own amaz­
ing capacity, the outcome was inevitable. My divorce
coincided with my father’s bankruptcy, and I went to
work, casting off all allegiances and responsibilities to
anyone other than myself. For me, work was only a
different means to the same end, to be able to do
exactly what I wanted to do.
For the next ten years I did just that. For greater
freedom and excitement I went abroad to live. I had
my own business, successful enough for me to indulge
most of my desires. I met all the people I wanted to
meet; I saw all the places I wanted to see; I did all the
things I wanted to do—I was increasingly miserable.