Page 410 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
P. 410

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                                                    A DRUNK, LIKE YOU               399
                                 worked for with no problem; now even minor product
                                 showcases were becoming difficult.
                                    Also, I was having trouble getting technicians to
                                 work for me. In the past I had had my pick because I was
                                 good to work for and the projects were fun, with in-
                                 teresting new ideas. I always had a quick temper, but
                                 now things were getting out of hand. I would do
                                 things like beat up my desk with my desk chair.
                                    And the most serious thing to me was that I was
                                 contemplating suicide. I had an actual plan—a plan
                                 for an accident that would raise no question in the
                                 minds of the insurance company. So in a moment of
                                 sanity, I decided it would be a good idea to seek help.
                                 If I hadn’t lost my marbles, they were at the least
                                 very loose.
                                    So my wife and I found a psychiatric social worker at
                                 the local Jewish Family Services agency. She saw us as
                                 a couple, then individually, then together, and so it
                                 went. When we were together, we worked on our
                                 interpersonal problems. When I saw her by myself,
                                 she would talk about drinking. I don’t know why she
                                 kept bringing it up. I drank, but not that much. I never
                                 even mentioned my drinking except maybe to say,
                                 “Yes, I do drink,” when she asked. It wasn’t the prob-
                                 lem—the other things were. One day she read me
                                 some questions from a pamphlet, which I answered
                                 honestly. She concluded that maybe I drank too much,
                                 and we talked about that for several sessions.
                                    One day she asked if I could limit myself to five
                                 drinks in a day. I said, “Sure.” Was I surprised when I
                                 found that I couldn’t. That should have been my
                                 first clue that she might be right, but it didn’t occur
                                 to me.
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