Did I ever really try to control my drinking? Couldn’t I do it differently? Couldn’t I give it one more shot? Or the wish for a drink just washes over me, hits from out of the blue, and it feels far bigger than me, too big, and the idea of total abstinence seems unthinkable. Never? I can’t ever yield to this feeling? I can’t ever seek that form of relief? Those are the worst moments, the scariest ones, and all you can really do is ride them out, wait for the feelings to pass, or share them with another alcoholic, who knows exactly|exactly| what those moments are like.
