Our Stories Have Power
How does one get here…from there? First, a little about what “there” was. In the end, the outside was as messy as the inside, but the inside is what is the most important (as the outside is merely a reflection of the inside). From the beginning I felt alone, even with people; a profound sense of being lost, even when I seemingly had a direction, and; unsafe, even when surrounded by people who cared. In the end, I also felt completely hopeless. I knew the insanity of the cycle, but was powerless to stop it. When I do public speaking, I liken it to being underwater and trying not to breath. You know breathing means death when underwater, but your survival instinct is stronger than your conscious reasoning, which is what not drinking was like. I knew I couldn’t have just one. I knew what the end looked like. Time and again – blackouts, rages, hurt. I knew the consequences, the insanity, and waking to find I had done it yet again, much to the c...