Almost everyone I know who’s quit drinking describes that feeling, the sense that life has turned stale and colorless and slowly ground to a halt. You’re someplace you don’t want to be—in a bad job, a bad relationship—and you can’t fathom a way out of it, simply can’t see what steps you could take to change things. The pain becomes acute. With each day you spend in the bad situation, your dignity erodes just a little bit more, keeping your feet glued more firmly to the floor. You cast around for explanations—whose fault is this? Is it your lover? Your boss? Your family? Are you simply doomed,
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