I Thought I Was Going to Die

I thought I was going to die.  In reality, I wanted to die.  As I lay on a strange bed in a motel, a television emitting useless noise in the background, I experienced firsthand the hopelessness that accompanies addiction—a sense of detachment, void of feeling or caring what the next hour, day or week might bring.  Where would I buy my next bottle, how was I going to get my next drink?  What would I mix it with so I could keep it down?  These were the questions that concerned me most.  My whole body shaking so badly I couldn’t stand-up long enough to even shower – not daring to shave or I would likely have cut myself.  Bloodshot eyes, blotched skin, bloated.  This is the life of an alcoholic.  This was the life I was living.  My future cut short by seeking a solution that was transitory at best. Three months ago, I had had enough.  I came to Bridge House hoping, praying, and seeking a different life.   I never thought I would find myself in such a situation.  I was raised in a good family, I was educated, aware, yet as I have discovered alcoholism and addiction is no respecter of person.  It doesn’t care who you are, where you come from or where you are headed.  Addiction is an equal opportunity problem that continues to plague all our communities. Being at Bridge House and seeking recovery has not always been easy but it has certainly been worth it.  I am appreciative of the opportunities Bridge House has afforded me.  The donations, contributions and efforts of others have provided me the chance to focus on becoming healthy physically, emotionally and spiritually, and for that I am very grateful. Mike

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