Yeah, I know the story wasn't too good. It wasn't out of my usual place. It was out of that dark place in my head that I lock up and try not to look at or remember. I'm a flea marketeer now, yeah. But I didn't start out that way. I had a profession. Fresh out of school, I was making a good six figures a year doing precision repair work on intricate mechanical devices.
Then I went on a bender, a really bad one- it wasn't over losing a business, it was over losing a wonderful girl. I remember one day waking up just like Yevin, in a cheap apartment. And I remember going through a pile of Seagram's Gin magnums looking for a drink, I was so hung over. I remember the days of drinking away my hangover. I remember all the puking, all the DTs, all of shakes. I remember the fucking hell my best friend put me through drying me out.
And I remember my first day sober. I remember trying to go back to work and realizing that I had so much nerve damage, I couldn't do that kind of work anymore. The life that I had been living before I started drinking was over, just as surely as if I had been shot with a bullet.
With love from my family, and love from a girl who I have been with for many years now, I picked up the pieces and found something else to do with my life. But this is a different life, a second chance at living. If my friend not realized where I had fallen to, I'd probably be really dead.
So drinking is a subject very close to my heart. Not to say that I don't drink, but now my wife keeps a really close eye on it. Its the drink I have to remind me that I've really beaten it- that I can stop after a predetermined amount and not continue.
So yeah, it was a sucky story. But it came from my heart, and my horror.