I was lying in bed, deathly ill after a stroke and a heart attack at the ripe old age of 47. I was there because I had been 100% taking care of an addict, and giving myself 0%. Docs said I had at best 6 months to live.
My "A", who today is my ex-wife, came into the room and offered me a handful of her pills.
I realized that if I took that handful I would not stop. I would take every single pill in the house. And the house had pills _everywhere_, more pills than fleas in a dog pound. All I had to do was reach out, take those pills, and the whole nightmare would be over. That easy.
I _really_ wanted those pills. Wanted them more than I have ever wanted anything. All I had to do was reach out and be done. That easy.
I heard a voice saying to my ex-wife, "I'm sorry, but I can't have those". I turned around and slept for the first time in days. I still don't know who said those words. It was my mouth, my voice, but not my intent.
Been three years now since that night. Found better docs, lotsa good meds, and a wonderful new life thanx to al-anon. My life is filled with miracles today, starting with the fact that I woke up this morning with a heart that nobody can explain why it still pumps, and a peace of mind that I can't explain where it came from.
I got butterfly wings now. Another 10lbs of dieting and I think I'll be able to fly
Mike
