“Why would you keep drinking when you know it makes you sick?,” my daughter apprehensively asked just around the time I celebrated one year sober. Sick had become our code word for drunk at some point during the five years I drank in excess. I can only guess the question had been consuming her for years, but she was afraid to ask. She saw her mom turn into a pretty bad person every single time she drank alcohol. Her 10-year-old mind could not comprehend why I would continue to drink despite all of the many negative consequences. From where she sat, I had 100 percent control over my alcohol consumption. Yet control is exactly what I was lacking – the disease of alcoholism was in complete control of my life, my body, and my mind.
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