For me, it was acceptance, and the basic fact that I was NOT the person I wanted to be. I don't want to be a woman who hides vodka bottles all over the house. I don't want to be worried about what I don't remember from the night before, and see that look on my husband's face when he realizes that I was functioning in a blackout once again.
I don't want to be the person who has to figure out how to hide booze when we take trips to see our kids.
I haven't been living. I've been hiding. No more. I want to live.
Come on Scarlet. Be one of the living.