September 22, 1968: bleeding out on a jungle floor in Vietnam, watching the enemy strip his gear while he lay in the dirt. For Otto M., this was the day he stopped wondering about a Higher Power. He grew up in a house with a liquor closet and a father who pinned his mother to a blood-covered bed, teaching Otto that truth was a liability and silence was survival.
He spent decades as a "stud" in a world of delusion, believing he was the favorite guy at a reunion when the tally sheet showed only two people actually voted for him. He lived in a reality of his own making, using bourbon and VA pills to muffle the screams of his past. It took hitting a bottom in Florida—staggering out of a club with corn dog vomit in his ears—to realize his perspective was biased.
He entered treatment to get a bigger script, not sobriety, but found a Higher Power defined not by control, but by care.
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