Why Abstinence Without Freedom Is a Prison – Bob D.

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About This Speaker Tape

1978. A bridge in Las Vegas. Bob D. stood there with a quart of wine for courage, convinced that five more years of this slow death—being "kicked to death by rabbits"—was too much to bear. He had spent years as an "urban outdoorsman," a polite term for a homeless man peeing on sofas and stealing from the people who loved him. He describes a life of pretending to fit in, a "ball of squirminess" that only vanished when he was half-lit up on 151 rum or shooting meth until he dismantled car dashboards looking for microphones.

He recalls the agony of wanting to see his dying father but being unable to stop the tremors without a "half of a half pint" of vodka, a lie that kept him from the hospital bed. For Bob, abstinence without freedom was just doing time. It wasn't until he hit the "last house on the block" in a detox center that he found a Higher Power and a sponsor who showed him that sobriety didn't have to be a prison of self-loathing.

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