“I knew it was going to be one of those days,” Jeannie started. “When I pulled back the curtains, the bright blue of the spring sky burned in my eyes and my temples pounded — boom / boom / boom — from the wings of a butterfly that fluttered by the window and too much cheap wine.

“I didn’t think it could get any worse,” she continued, “but my mouth dropped open when some dark haired naked dude stepped through the bedroom door and into my living room. ‘Babe, what a night; you got da bod and da moves,’ he said in that greasy New York accent I despised.”

“I wished I was a ghost, I wanted to disappear into the weaving of the couch fabric. Unfortunately, I can recount too many stories like this one. I was scuffling and knew it, I’d hit rock bottom. That is why I am here seeking help. I am Jeannie and I am an alcoholic.”

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Photo Credit: India Times
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