I loved being a party girl, going out every night and getting wasted. I thought it made my life fun. Sure, there was shame and regret in the morning, but I could wash that away with a few drinks.
Death isn’t always the end of a story. Here’s a story about life afterwards.
Fear and meetings kept me sober. Then came the day where the urge was just too strong and I drank again. It became a pattern
In a perfect world, it would be impossible to have an alcoholic sister. But, there is no perfect world. My sister is an alcoholic.