I never knew
For folks who haven't been there, it's hard to believe that one could not know. It's called denial, or maybe just ignorance; maybe a little of both. Almost from the beginning, there were signs. I thought I just wanted to keep drinking, never realizing I couldn't have quit, even if I'd had the desire to do so. Out of control drunks, fights, car crashes and human crashes, all were present from the earliest days. Later came hospitals and jails; still no clue. Next came such self-centeredness, that pleasing one's self was the ultimate motive in whatever I did, impervious to the harm it was doing to others.
Losses of jobs due to absenteeism or tardiness were sprinkled here and there, as well as the self indulgent desire to quit any job one wasn't pleased with, no matter the consequences. The same could be said for personal relationships who one tired of, like wives and children and elderly parents; anyone who got in the way of self perceived notions of things more important. There were times, to my dismay, that they decided to get rid of me. As long as one was able to get to a prolonged period with alcohol each and every day or night, all seemed right with the world. I had, in essence, become a dirty rotten scoundrel.
And this behavior went on for thirty-seven years, until at the ripe old age of fifty-three, I had reached the lowest of depths, physically, mentally, morally, and spiritually.
I was awakened then, by a power greater than myself, who sent an old friend of mine with a message asking, Have you had enough?
Alcoholism is a cunning, baffling, and powerful disease. I was well in its grasp for almost forty years, and guess what?
I never knew