Northwest Texas, a small town called Crowell. A Baptist upbringing where the "real ones" prayed for the Catholics and the deacons looked sad on Sundays because they were exhausted from the Saturday night honky-tonks. Jim W. spent his youth in a cycle of "don't-do" and "do," discovering that the moment he tried not to think about something, it became the only thing in his head.
His life became a sequence of blackouts and "total fright." He describes a gritty existence of spraying golf courses with beer, failing out of jobs, and a suicide attempt in a bathroom that was interrupted by a phone call from the police. He navigated the world with a "number one and a spare" woman, living in a faded green trailer in an alley. From the Air Force in China to a drug company in Fort Stockton, Jim used Librium and whiskey to mute the noise. It took a Christmas Eve collapse in Houston and a ride with a stranger to find a Higher Power and a way to stop the blackout.
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