January 31, 2012 (this day)

This is part of the scene of my last drunk.  It is my grandmother’s house, and my uncle lives there now.  My uncle didn’t live there 27 years ago when I kept my grandmother up all night with hysterical ranting and crying.  He kept his business there, though, so he arrived in the morning.  I don’t know what my grandmother told him was wrong with me.  I don’t know if she knew.  I begged them both not to tell my mother what I’d done, and I don’t know if they ever did tell her or not.

If you had asked me that day, I really had no idea or feeling that this would be the last time I drank.  In fact I was on my way to admitting and understanding that I could not stop.  Which enabled me to stop.

My family is streaming with alcoholics.  I don’t know why, but I’m always reluctant to say anything helpful to anyone in my family.  I guess that early on we are told that we can’t really help family members, but I think that’s harder rule in my head than it needs to be.  The uncle who was at the scene of my crime has a drinking problem.  I’m on the edge of reminding him what I was like and telling him what happened that enabled me to refer to that night as my last drunk.


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