But it wasn’t so much the alcohol that destroyed me as what I did to myself because of my drinking.
Miserable, tired of living, too much of a coward to take my life, I existed in my own private Hell.
I was drinking heavily, going from job to job, wading through people, places, and things, leaving wreckage, chaos, and suffering in my wake. By the time I realized that I was in deep trouble, it was too late to do anything other than throw myself upon the mercy of God and those around me. I had nothing left. There were no friends, possessions, job, and place to live, love of self, or faith.
Soon I found myself sleeping on the floor of a church where I had been a member for a few years. Being one of those people that had been religious on one hand and on the other a thoroughly disgusting example the human species, I made all the noises that were expected, and sung all the hymns, but I had no idea of what true spirituality was. I was a Sunday morning Christian. The rest of the week I gave no thought to the needs of my spirit, or in seeking God during my day to day existence. The only thing that mattered was my little world and my little ego.
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