Where’s the line between healthy pride in how far you’ve come and sinister pride that sneaks up and sabotages recovery?
The guy sat in front of us, blowing back marijuana smoke that twisted in the air and headed directly for my nostrils.
While we walked the aisles and found the perfect Anna and Elsa backpack and matching lunchbox, I told her that in two years I was going to bring her back for a new backpack for the first day of kindergarten.
I got sober alone. No 12-step program. No sober friends. Alcohol all around me. Alone.