My bottom, which included a mini-breakdown in the doctor's office and my immediate admission into treatment, was the best day in my life.
It sure didn't seem that way at the time.
It seemed awful.
I was driving down the road washing down Xanax with beer to keep from shaking, all to no avail.
But I felt strangely comfortable in the detox unit - kind of safe, really.
The beauty in that day is that it represents the exact moment that I quit plummeting toward oblivion and disaster (and death, for that matter), hit the earth with a resounding thud, and began to slowly crawl back up toward God.
All with the daily help of God and AA in my case.