I never want to forget the depth of defeat, desperation, and demoralization prior to my sobriety. Absolutely the only thing looping in my mind was escaping into a bottle. I lived in that mental space for years, holding my breath, chained to my thoughts, and trying to control something that was uncontrollable. I was reminded this morning that many addicts don’t make it, and that’s why I must keep it fresh in my mind, so I can keep it. I must give it away to keep it. I must share about what it felt like so that even just one person doesn’t have to suffer like me, looking for a solution but fearful of finding one that meant I could no longer drink.

Hope first showed up for me as a gift rather than something I found inside me. My sobriety community allowed me to borrow their hope. Today I want to be a hope dealer because the same hope that saved me is meant to be shared so that it saves the next suffering alcoholic.

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