Pasadena, a small radius of twelve bars, and a professional license held together by a thread. Tom S. spent decades as a professional pessimist, treating anxiety with alcohol until the medicine became the poison. He describes a slow slide into a "falling down drunk" existence, marked by suicidal gestures and a level of nastiness that left him unwelcome in the very bars he frequented. He lived in the wreckage of a failed marriage and a terminal outlook, convinced that AA was bullshit and the "God stuff" was a car trick to get him into a church basement.
The shift happened during the pandemic. Isolated and terrified of a retirement spent in slow organ failure, Tom joined a massive Zoom meeting. Hearing the calm in a stranger's voice from Key West, he realized that hundreds of people couldn't all be lying. Now nearly four digits sober, he relies on a Higher Power to stop the "meaningless suffering" and the feeling of being sentenced to another day of life.
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