Page 26 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

BILL’S STORY 5
I became an unwelcome hanger-on at brokerage
places.
Liquor ceased to be a luxury; it became a necessity.
“Bathtub’’ gin, two bottles a day, and often three, got
to be routine. Sometimes a small deal would net a few
hundred dollars, and I would pay my bills at the bars
and delicatessens. This went on endlessly, and I began
to waken very early in the morning shaking violently.
A tumbler full of gin followed by half a dozen bottles
of beer would be required if I were to eat any break-
fast. Nevertheless, I still thought I could control the
situation, and there were periods of sobriety which
renewed my wife’s hope.
Gradually things got worse. The house was taken
over by the mortgage holder, my mother-in-law died,
my wife and father-in-law became ill.
Then I got a promising business opportunity. Stocks
were at the low point of 1932, and I had somehow
formed a group to buy. I was to share generously in
the profits. Then I went on a prodigious bender, and
that chance vanished.
I woke up. This had to be stopped. I saw I could
not take so much as one drink. I was through forever.
Before then, I had written lots of sweet promises, but
my wife happily observed that this time I meant busi-
ness. And so I did.
Shortly afterward I came home drunk. There had
been no fight. Where had been my high resolve? I
simply didn’t know. It hadn’t even come to mind.
Someone had pushed a drink my way, and I had taken
it. Was I crazy? I began to wonder, for such an ap-
palling lack of perspective seemed near being just that.
Renewing my resolve, I tried again. Some time