1. It's halfway through 1993.
    I know. Most of you weren't even born yet.
  2. I've just moved back to St. Louis from a DISASTROUS first post-college year in Asheville, NC.
    Crappy job, crappy boss, perfectly reasonable expectations (like showing up daily), which I could not meet.
  3. I am unemployed and they are trying to repo my car.
    Who are they? I have no idea, but I move its parking spot a lot so no one can find me. Historically accurate detail: it's a Geo Prism.
  4. I am living on the couch of a friend who is at her wit's end with me.
  5. I'm trying to get my ex-boyfriend to get back together with me.
    Surprise: he was not a catch and we'd been doing that roller coaster thing for years. It was wearing me down to a nub and I kept showing up for it.
  6. Oh. Maybe I should mention that I'm a raging alcoholic.
  7. It's a rough, dark time, filled with bad choices marked by drugs, alcohol and muddy issues of consent.
  8. I wish I could say it was the end.
    It wasn't.
  9. I'd be sober within three years, still only 25...
    ...but they were a long-ass three years.
  10. I ask myself, when thinking about that time: why wasn't THAT enough? Why wasn't that enough pain? Why wasn't it enough sadness?
    But here's what I do know from 19 years of sobriety: it takes what it takes. And looking for rhyme or reason will fill you with regret, which is dangerous territory for an addict.
  11. So that was me. Half my life ago.
    It's a fucking miracle I'm alive.