Page 294 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
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                                                    THE MISSING LINK                283
                                 to the hotel stinking drunk and riddled with bruises.
                                 Ah yes, what a grand evening it was! I fell in love that
                                 night—with a beverage.
                                    Returning to the States, I was determined to con-
                                 tinue with my newfound love affair. I found myself
                                 trying to convince my friends to join me, but I was
                                 met with resistance. Still determined, I set out to find
                                 new friends, friends who could help me maintain this
                                 fantastic solution to my most desperate problems. My
                                 escapades started as a weekend pursuit and pro-
                                 gressed into a daily obsession. At first, it took several
                                 beers to get me drunk to my satisfaction. However,
                                 within three years, it took a fifth and a half of vodka, a
                                 bottle of wine, and several beers in an evening’s time
                                 to satisfactorily black me out. I would obtain alcohol
                                 by any means necessary. That meant lying, stealing,
                                 and cheating. My motto was, if you felt like I did,
                                 you’d have to get drunk too.
                                    As the feelings of hopelessness and depression pro-
                                 gressed, so did my drinking. Thoughts of suicide came
                                 more and more frequently. It felt as if things were
                                 never going to change. Progress with my therapist
                                 came to almost a complete halt. The hopelessness was
                                 compounded by the fact that the one thing that was
                                 bringing me relief, the one thing I counted on to take
                                 the pain away, was ultimately destroying me. The end,
                                 I feared, was close.
                                    My last semester in high school marked my bottom.
                                 It was everyday drinking then. Since I had already
                                 been accepted at college, I consciously decided to
                                 make that last semester one big party. But it was no
                                 fun at all. I was miserable. I graduated narrowly and
                                 took a job at a local garage. It was difficult to manage
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