The Bronx, a family of "insane" proportions, and a childhood spent in the wreckage of mental and physical abuse. Scott R. describes his life as a sequence of "ready, fire, aim," a chaotic trajectory that led him through a revolving door of marijuana, pills, and cocaine. He speaks of a "spiritual tapeworm," a cancer of the soul that left him hollow and acting without reason. The wreckage was concrete: selling a friend's car to pay rent and standing by while his children were crushed by the fallout of his disease.
After eighteen years of psychotherapy that only taught him how to understand his demise, a Jungian therapist finally told him there was nothing left to be done. Scott entered AA as a skeptic, viewing the rooms as a "plateau of lameness." He describes the shift from a life of "Grand Theft Auto" to a blank treaty of surrender. By relying on a Higher Power and the grit of a home group, he moved from being a "dip" to advocating for his injured sons.
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