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Grapevine : January 2012
hours outside of the city, so going home wasn’t an option. Instead, I vis- ited a fancy suburban mall with my parents. It was there that I had my final confrontation with “king alco- hol.” Walking past a display of vodka, I suddenly knew that I was going to steal a bottle, run to the nearest ex- pressway overpass, drink it, smash the bottle and cut my wrists with the glass. I knew this would happen, and I would be powerless to stop it. I knew what the outcome would be, and drinking wouldn’t help it. I had finally hit bottom. I had nothing left. No hope. I broke down. Weeping desper- ately, shaking and trembling, I was taken back to the treatment center. my parents didn’t know what to do with me. The staff on hand didn’t know what to do with me. They put me in a room where I could sit, and there wasn’ t anything for me to use to hurt myself. I stayed there until lights out, and my condition didn’t improve. I couldn’t stop sobbing and shaking. A night staff member saw me as I shuffled off to my room and knew exactly what had hap- pened to me. A few minutes later he pulled me from my room and sat me down in the office. He started talking. I realized he wasn’t telling me about all the things I shouldn’t do, why I’m such a terrible person, all the stuff I need to start doing. He was telling me about how he drank, how hopeless he felt. How much he hated himself. He told me about how he would wake up under the porches of complete strangers. It was at that moment that I knew he was for real. I had never met anyone who drank like me, who understood what it felt like to see the pity and disgust in the eyes of their friends and family. He told me all about himself, and I lis- tened. I wanted to know how it was that he was able to escape. He said he had turned his will and life over to the care of God. I felt crushed. I knew that wouldn’t work for me. After all, God was my ulti- mate nemesis! I felt even more hope- less, even lower than I had earlier that day. Then he dropped the bomb on me—he said I could have any Higher Power I wanted; it didn’t need to be that God that was out to get me. All I had to do was be willing to be- lieve that something out there would help me. Though I couldn’t believe right then, I could admit there was a .00001% chance that something might happen if I gave it a shot. I did. I went back to my room, lay down and looked up at the ceiling. I tried to imagine what a Higher Power might be. I asked for help. The mo- ment the thought went up, I became willing to do whatever it would take get this new power into my life. I had found freedom at age 15! I awoke the next day a new per- son. I was no longer shut off to the idea of a Higher Power. I was willing 20 January 2012 GRAPE_16-21.indd 20 11/22/11 3:57 PM