I finally saw myself as a person who didn’t need alcohol to make it through the day: I was enough without it
I remember sitting in the grass, bracing against the trunk of a sturdy ponderosa pine when I heard voices calling my name, searching the woods behind Ryan’s house. I remember Ryan telling me that Sara, his wife, would drive me home. I remember protesting, insisting that I could spend the night in the woods. I remember not wanting to cause trouble.
Sara helped me into the back of her SUV and propped a stainless steel mixing bowl next to me in case I got sick. I muttered apology after apology, telling her I was sorry for getting so wasted at her party. Once she’d got me home, Sara had to extract me from the back seat and cradle my drunkenly swaying body to the door. Then I vomited in the driveway. I remember nothing else.
