How on Earth did I get here?
This is the thought that kept repeating in my mind over and over again; like a broken record, as I sat alone in the hospital room. I was confused. Embarrassed. Ashamed. My dysfunctional relationship with alcohol had destroyed almost everything important to me. It destroyed my marriage. It ruined my relationship with my kids. It destroyed my liver. I was on rocky terms with my family. I had bounced from job to job over the past few years as my addiction had gotten worse. And now, it was literally killing me.
Staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, I was struggling to come to terms with the phrase “end-stage liver failure.”
I was not supposed to end up in the hospital dying at age 38.
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