I don’t remember my last drink.

After 45 years of drink and drugs, and 43 years of flirting with AA, very occasionally, for very short periods of time, I hit my, personal, “bottom”. I had no money, and my regular sources were deceased or not speaking to me.

I got out of prison and was homeless. From the homeless shelter the VA helped me get a section 8 voucher and into an apartment.

That was the summer of 2016. I’ve had to learn to live on a small social security check and an even smaller stipend from the DOD.

The apartment, in a complex where most of the residents are on sec 8, and not very educated,(to be as charitable as possible), just happens to be around the corner from the AA Hut where I went to my very first meeting, in 1975.

I’ve been all over the country and the world, only to end up back where it all started. It’s as if the Goddess said, “Here dummy, isn’t it about time you got this right? Leave your ego, your false pride, out in the parking lot and get your hind-parts in there!”

Best thing possible. I’m grateful for what I have. I’m pleased with it and have no “fear of financial insecurity”.

That’s quite a change from being a “big shot", casually tossing a Diner’s Club or Carte Blanche at the “help”…🙄

Thank you Benya.

--weezi--💖🙏🏼💜🙏🏼🦄🥳🥰

PS: Shortly after I got sober my daughter called and said, “****' asked me if you need any money. Do you?” She was speaking of a first cousin who lives in the area, retired, who has done 'quite well' with a major corporation based in Atlanta.

For the first time in my life I turned down a family bail out, I said, “No. Give him my sincere thanks, but I have to do this on my own.” It was surreal. I felt like I was watching someone else saying it. I was only watching from inside the person’s eyes.

Ahh well, thanks again dude, I’ll have to write a, let’s just add that to the list of essays I need to “put on paper”. 💜🙏