May 1993. A filthy apartment by the beach, empty bottles on the floor, and a man weighing 108 pounds who hasn't answered his door in months. Matthew M. describes the "bondage of self" that led him to ruin his dying mother's final Mother's Day, a day he spent drinking gin while his family watched him be vile. He was a lead guitar player in a successful band, but the slow progression of alcoholism had left him in squalor, owing thousands to the IRS and hunted by people scarier than the police.
The turning point arrived not as a bolt of lightning, but as a surrender. When his brother told him he had a problem, Matthew admitted it—a nanosecond of honesty that set the wheels of grace in motion. He recounts the wreckage of his early sobriety: the terror of a rehab center, the shame of racing to the wrong hospital upon the birth of his daughter, and the "painful ego puncturing" from a sponsor who told him he was full of it for claiming to love his child without paying child support. By sm...
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