Wednesday, July 30, 2014
No pleasures of our drinking days even compensated for those horrible nights of wakeful tossing. The interminable pacing the floor; those night sweats; the endless hours when we couldn't sleep and at the same time dreaded falling asleep. The hours that seemed to stretch into eternity as we lay in bed with remorse as a bedfellow. Then the Hell of the goof-balls that made our nights better and our days worse.
The physical pain we might have endured for many more years, but the anguish of the heart and soul was unendurable.
Hazelden Foundation
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