A 14-foot flat-bottom boat, two 55-pound cinder blocks, and a rope tied to a left ankle. For years, David spent his Saturdays rehearsing a suicide that looked like an accident for the insurance money, imagining the "poor David" whispers of mourners. He lived in a state of "pyramiding thoughts," where a boss’s silence at 10:00 AM became a lost job, a bankrupt future, and a diet of day-old bread by 10:01 AM. He spent his final drinking years hiding in a six-by-seven-foot bathroom, smoking in secret and walking "humpback" to conceal bottles in his jacket.
Recovery meant facing the wreckage of a home where the loudest shouter won and his sons were strangers. Through his Higher Power and a blunt sponsor, David learned that his victimhood was merely a "justification for the inexcusable." He had to stop trying to "fix" his children and instead return their dignity, moving from a position of control to one of honest humility.
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