A nut ward in the hospital, where the only way out is to make a leather belt. Paul O. didn't see how a belt would fix his life, but he saw a loud-voiced attorney named Frank who claimed to be an alcoholic. Paul describes himself as an "alcoholic by marriage," a man who once locked his home bar with a brass hasp only to pick the lock with a bobby pin and eventually vomit green from drinking too much crème de menthe. He spent seven months in meetings just to figure out what the other drunks were laughing about before he finally caught the "virus" of alcoholism himself.
Now 28 years sober, Paul views sobriety as a baseball diamond: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. He speaks of the "committee in his head"—the warring voices that either sabotage his marriage or celebrate it. For Paul, recovery is a choice of which voice to listen to and a constant motion to stay ahead of a disease that is always stalking him.
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