Once upon a time I knew a girl--Maria--who liked to dance on tables in taverns. She also enjoyed removing vital garments while dancing. Never EVER would she perform in this fashion without being drunk out of her mind. Maria is an alcoholic, suffers from that mental, physical, spiritual disease of alcoholism.
Somehow she one day decided enough of her life had been wasted being sick and tired of being sick and tired. She had reached the bottom of the pit of life. 'It' just was not working out as she had planned.
Maria began to feel ashamed of her barroom antics. She had looked around the cocktail lounge and wondered which of dozens or so of the men had she taken to her bed? What were their names? She felt like that 'Adam-and-Eve' thing, wanting to go somewhere and hide herself.
Maria entered a 6-day detox, and then a 28-day treatment facility. There were 10 in her small group of recovering drunks. On the final day of her stay there, the chief counselor told the assembled 10 that the deck was stacked against them, statistics showed that ONE of them would likely be blest with long-term sobriety.
Maria began "tears-on-the-floor" crying, sobbing. Asked why she was crying, she replied, that she had been overwhelmed with sorrow for the other 9, who might not make it.
She had surrendered (SO important!) and made a commitment to herself to stay sober. She had stopped drinking--fine--and now she would STAY stopped.
Maria is sober now 25 years. Eight did not make it.
I know Maria.
