“Our best efforts to drink like other people always led us deeper into trouble. We could no longer escape the truth that liquor had us licked.” — Little Red Book, p. 17
Drinking got suckier. Looking back, we don’t even know exactly when it changed. It used to be fun. Loud nights, good laughs, that easy kind of escape. Then something flipped. It started feeling heavy. We couldn’t drink enough to feel good, and we couldn’t stop long enough to feel normal.
We’d wake up with that pit in our stomach, already knowing we said or did something stupid again. Deep down, we knew this was taking a toll on us, and that part scared us. It felt like watching a slow-motion wreck and not being able to hit the brakes. We could see it getting worse, but we kept pretending it wasn’t. That lie felt safer than quitting.
Now, sitting in AA, we’re starting to see the truth about our drinking.
What lie kept us drinking when we already knew the truth?
