Ducky's Path: Growing Up in Canoga Park, Early Drinking & Finding Sobriety

You know, if you're going to be on camera, you might as well speak up.

OK.

Hi, I'm Ducky, and I'm an alcoholic.

Hi, I'm Abby.

Thank you very much, Karen.

It's nice to meet you.

Thank you for having me.

I just want to check my time.

And let's see, my sobriety date's July 2, 1980.

I got here at 18.

I still have my braces on because they

should have come off many years prior,

but I was too busy drinking to not go back to the orthodontist.

So they got off when I was one year sober.

But my whole group is specific, so sorry.

Oh, funny, funny, funny, ha ha.

OK, but I'm from--

I was born in Encino, and I lived in Pinocchio Park.

Do I get a yay?

OK, so I'm an original Valley girl.

Well, I don't know.

Yeah, I think I am, because I was born in the '60s.

And so that's pretty original, Valley girl-ish.

And oh, but right now, I live in Orange County.

So go ahead and boo now.

[INTERPOSING VOICES]

I do like interactive meetings, so this is all good.

Boo and hiss and yay once in a while.

There we go.

But the bottom line is I'm an alcoholic.

So welcome if you're new.

Welcome if you're returning.

You know, this is just my story, my experience.

And you know, my alcoholism into my sobriety,

the darkness into light.

And you know, that's what I think that I love.

You know, you did a great job, Ben.

And that's what we have, darkness into light,

alcoholism into sobriety.

So obviously, I got sober at 18.

I didn't have a lot of drinking history.

But I lived in Canoga Park.

This is my sister, Lisa.

Thank you so much for coming.

She lives in Burbank.

Yay.

And an alcoholic, yeah.

So I had three older sisters, mom and dad.

My dad was a drunk.

But he was a good drunk in the sense of he was a good dad.

I always like to say he had a great big heart and just

a love for drinking.

And you know, our home life, I wouldn't have never thought

that there was--

we had a lot of love in our family, a lot of love.

So it wasn't a lack of anything.

Well, maybe, you know, functional family.

But maybe that was-- but that didn't cause my alcoholism.

And my mom-- my sisters were older.

So I was kind of like an only child.

I came much later.

And my dad's drinking.

My mom worked very hard.

She was an ER nurse at-- is that Parkwood or West Hills?

I don't know, both.

And right, interactive.

You can come-- no, OK, so she was my hero.

She was my hero.

She was a good--

she was a great mom, great mom.

She went back to school to become a nurse.

So she could really, you know, pay the bills

and take care of our family.

But my dad was a good guy.

He'd bring drunks home from the bar.

And then later on, he brought drunks home from AA.

And so I spent a lot of time with him,

like, you know, going to the Canoga High football games,

the Dodger games.

We worked as a big sports fan.

I was his little buddy.

And, you know, from my earliest age,

I recall not feel-- like, kindergarten,

not feeling like I fit in.

And I don't know, it was like, you know,

you sit on your little square mat.

And I knew that they sat on their square mat way better.

I can't tell you what it was.

But, you know, it's that internal dialogue constantly,

like I said, you know?

Like, I felt like a square peg going

into a round hole constantly.

Like, I was constantly, you know,

judging my insides by your outside.

And I never measured up.

And, you know, later, of course, we'll

find out that's my alcoholism, the ism being by myself, me.

It's all about me and feeling lesser than and insecure

with selfishness, the ego.

And I got-- a little bit later, I

got into this little gang of Canoga Park surfers and skaters.

And I didn't do either.

I wasn't a surfer or a skater.

I was not coordinated.

But I was a great talker.

And I did everything they told me to do.

And it was really against the morals of our family.

But I just was so desperately wanting to be a part of,

and to be liked, and to be accepted,

and to not be kicked out.

And I, you know, about-- so I think my first drunk was--

I was like 11, like wild, blackout drunk,

woke up the next morning on a beanbag chair way back

in the '70s, or whenever it was, and being told

what I did the night before.

And I liked that.

Even though, you know, it's not what you want to hear,

I just knew that I would never do that sober,

and that maybe they'd like me more.

So that's how my drinking started out.

And in 1975, my dad did a geographical.

So he thought, you know, life would be better,

or he could stay sober, or whatever,

and moved our family up to Issaquah, Washington.

And Issaquah was a tiny, little town.

You know, I grew up here in the valley, you know,

hitchhiking to Malibu, standing on the corners in your bikini.

I always got picked up, and always had a great time.

And then went-- so in 1975.

But I remember thinking at the time

that this is a good thing that I'm leaving,

that I'm leaving Canoga Park and these people.

Because, you know, in hindsight, or later on, a lot of people

had-- went, you know, deep down.

And drugs, and death, and a lot of things in Canoga Park.

And so I remember thinking, oh my god, it's a good thing.

Even though outside, I didn't want to leave.

You know, I did not want to leave California.

But I knew that I would never be strong enough or tough enough

to leave that group of people.

I just knew it.

I knew that about me.

So we get to Issaquah, and, you know,

I kind of floundered for a while.

And we had a rental, then we got a house.

And I went to Pine Lake Junior High.

And it was like eighth or ninth grade.

And I was-- you know, had no friends.

And I drank my parents wine and beer every night.

And, you know, smoking their cigarettes,

sneaking, everything.

But I really kind of applied myself in school.

I had never tried that before.

And I got a straight A's.

I was on an honor roll.

It was really this odd thing that

happened that by applying myself,

I was on the volleyball team and the ski team.

And, you know, just thinking--

I don't know what I was thinking.

I had nothing else to do.

But that summer before high school,

it's like Californians were migrating out of California

for whatever reason.

And a lot of them went to Washington.

And in my little area of my neighborhood,

some California girls had moved in.

And my people had arrived.

You know, my dress didn't look so funny anymore,

because that's how they dressed.

And so it was like, you know, it was party from the get go.

And my sophomore year in high school,

my first year in high school, I ended with a 0.5 grade point

average.

And that was really--

that fit better for me, because I didn't have to try very hard.

And I'm not a tryer.

I don't like to do hard things.

I like the easier, softer way all the time.

I like the easier, softer way.

I like just, you know, skirting by.

And so from that point to the time that I got sober,

it was wild, and I've already blackout drinking.

I like the blackout.

I don't like reality.

There's nothing about reality that I like.

Because it's reality.

Your kids are way more fun to be drunk.

And when I was 15 in 1977, I came home from school one day.

And my dad was drunk.

Nothing new.

But we had those old phones on the wall there.

And it had one of those wind-up cords that were stretched.

So it piled up on the floor in a coil.

Like, you could take it around the neighborhood,

because it would be on the phone.

We had one of those.

And he was on the phone.

He had this big phone book.

And he kept saying, no, there's nothing wrong with my car.

And he'd hang up.

And Brian's like, Duffy, come over here.

And he's trying to get this number.

He kind of is trying to get this number.

And I dialed the number.

And they say, Alcoholics Anonymous.

Well, I don't know what an alcoholic is, nor an anonymous.

I had never heard that word.

And so I hand the phone to my dad.

And what he was trying to do was call AA, AA.

But he kept calling AAA.

And they're asking about his car.

And so I hand him the phone.

I don't know what's going on.

He hangs up.

He calls Lisa, because you were over 21.

And he says, Lisa, go get me a six pack.

AA's coming over.

And she did.

And that was his last six pack.

That was his last drink.

And that was February 7, 1977.

And these two men from AA came into our home.

And Miracle had arrived into our home

and changed the trajectory of our lives.

And he didn't drink again from that day till 1992,

when he passed away.

And sober.

But these men came in and took him to AA every night.

He probably should have gone to detox.

But they fed him hard candy back then.

And every day, he was going to meetings.

Every day, there was an Alana Club in Bellevue not far.

And he picked up P. Knuckle, played P. Knuckle,

and went to meetings every day.

And that's how he got sober.

But we loved AA, because it was a miracle

that happened to our family.

He was happy, and he was sober.

And if nothing else changed, that would have been fine.

But it really broadened our view to see that somebody

could get sober, like our dad.

And we would go to open AA meetings, and picnics,

and potlucks, and birthdays.

And everybody was so warm and welcoming.

It was great.

I wasn't a threat, because I'm not an alcoholic.

I was only 15.

Though I was blacking out and burning and all that.

So I barely graduated by the skin of my teeth.

Like, really skin of my teeth.

In fact, I think they said, you've got two credits left.

Go to the community college.

So I did, and I took creative consciousness.

And I took creative consciousness two.

Then I took creative consciousness two again.

It was my first year of college.

It was great.

But the summer after I graduated,

these guys came up to me and said, hey,

we're getting a house near the community college.

We need a fourth roommate.

Would you-- I said, yes.

And it was a party house.

And a couple of them started out kind

of being serious about college, or community college.

And I really never-- obviously, I wasn't.

I had a job.

And just, you know, I was at a restaurant.

And by Christmas time, I was not doing well.

I had lost all the other jobs.

And I was at this gas station.

It wasn't a fancy gas station.

It was, you know, it didn't have, like, you know, things to set, like,

you know, any drinks or cigarettes.

They had nothing.

It was just, like, there was this little hut that I stood in.

It was a couple of weeks before Christmas.

And this woman comes in, and she pays for her gas.

She hands me cash.

A couple hundred dollars fell into the trash can.

She takes off.

I see the $200.

I'm like, well, this is a lucky day for me.

It's a Friday.

So I put the money in, thinking I get to drink on my own dime

this weekend and whatever else.

And I didn't think another thought of it.

You know, that's that I self me.

It's all about me, me, me, me, me.

And, but she comes running back in, crying.

She goes, oh my god, that's my Christmas money

for my three kids.

And it's two weeks before Christmas.

And I said, no, I haven't seen it.

And, you know, that's, you know, we talk about invisible lines.

There's many invisible lines.

But that one really stands out for me.

Because I like Christmas, and I wasn't raised that way.

But there was no way I was giving her $200 back, no way.

And a couple months later, my dad had a heart attack, stroke.

And they called in the afternoon.

And I went and got a fifth of tequila and a six pack

of beer, Rainier beer.

About 9 o'clock that night, or, you know,

I come out of a blackout thinking,

oh, I think I'm supposed to go to the hospital.

In and out of a blackout, drive to the hospital,

drunker than a skunk, in the elevator,

peed my pants, elevator doors open.

And there's this AA couple that my dad got sober

with, Jack and Terry.

And they direct me to ICU.

I don't think my family was in there.

I don't really recall.

I remember seeing my dad all hooked up.

And then the nurses escorted me out.

And I was just drinking every day, not really holding a--

oh, I called my--

I wanted to go to a party.

Called them, I told them I broke my leg.

Don't ever do that.

Don't ever talk with broke your leg.

You have to have a cast on.

So you don't ever-- you can't go back the next week and say,

oh, forget that.

Forget about that.

Fine.

In May, we decided to drive up to Vancouver, British Columbia.

It's not that far, three, four hours.

But the drinking age was 19.

And though I was still 18, we thought, you know,

we'll get in.

So the guys from my house and a couple of us, we go up there.

And one of the guys thought he was my boyfriend.

Don't know why.

I wasn't as loyal as he may have been.

We get to this bar.

And I'm thinking, like, this is Disneyland.

And I had no money because I couldn't hold a job.

And I realized pretty quickly that they weren't drinking

like I wanted to drink.

Like, I'm in a bar.

I'm like, you know, bring it on.

And I don't know if these men found me or I found them.

But I went off with these two strange men for the weekend.

And in and out of a blackout.

And that's why, like I said, I like a blackout.

I like a blackout.

No reality.

But I found my people.

So I drove back with them over the border.

And, you know, I'm feeling, I'm thinking, you know,

not once did I think that alcohol is my problem.

I'm thinking, there's something wrong with me.

You know, I just had this, like, darkness in my soul.

The sky was dark.

We're driving down I-5 and thinking,

there is something really wrong with me.

And, you know, I've just got this dark soul.

And we're driving it.

It's getting darker and darker and darker.

It was May 18th, 1980.

It was the day that Mount St. Helens blew the volcano.

And it really was dark outside.

However, it really, you know, matched how I was feeling.

I was feeling pretty low.

But what do you do?

You drink more.

You just drink more to cover up that low.

But, you know, the shame, the guilt.

There wasn't a lot of guilt.

It was just a lot of, you know, something's wrong.

I think I have maybe a mental illness.

And so I drank pretty heavily.

I lived in a party house and I was the only girl

and I was unwanted.

I was not liked.

And I wasn't working and I had zero money.

And my other sister called, who's not an alcoholic,

called one day out of the blue and said,

"Hey, you wanna go to that Sunday morning meeting with Dad?"

And I'm like, and I don't know why I said yes.

I have no idea.

I said, "Sure," drank every day in a blackout,

pretty much for a week before she picked me up.

Hadn't showered, hadn't changed my clothes, was still drunk.

She picked me up.

We'll go to this Sunday morning.

I sit across the table from my dad.

And, you know, they had a mic and they passed it around.

And I knew a lot of these people

from all the potlucks and picnics.

And, you know, I can only imagine, you know, I was a wreck.

I was drunk.

And this man stood up, Terry,

and he stood up and he was talking.

And, you know, there's many things that he could have said

about the beautiful life of Alcoholics Anonymous,

that, you know, what being sober and AA had given to him,

like successful businesses and houses and a wife

and these beautiful kids and cars and trips,

all of that was true.

And it was a result of living the honest, good life in AA

that we get the opportunity to do here.

And I wouldn't have related one iota to any of that.

And he talked about the black hole in his soul.

And it was that moment of grace that hit me.

It was like, oh, so that black hole

could be a result of my drinking.

So, you know, that moment of grace,

it's like, you know, shot through my brain.

Maybe it's my drinking.

And so I asked my dad if I could move home after the meeting.

He goes, "If you go to a meeting tonight and get a sponsor."

So I cleaned up, took a shower, got some clean clothes,

went to a 7 p.m. beginners meeting at the Alana Club.

And it was about 10 guys, 12 guys.

I can do this.

I'm sitting there and the clock's ticking.

Nothing that they're saying is resonating.

And, you know, that clock is ticking.

And I'm like, oh my God, I made a terrible mistake.

I can't be an alcoholic.

I'm only 18 and the clock is ticking.

I can't be an alcoholic.

I never even really tried to stop drinking.

I have another good 10 years.

I'm sure I got another 10 years of drinking.

I might as well do this good.

You know, and the clock's ticking.

And I, you know, as the meeting was going on,

I was just backing myself out of that moment of grace

that God had given me that morning.

And it was like, I don't need this.

I am not ready.

I'm too young.

Everything, everything.

And they're like, now don't get up.

There's an eight o'clock meeting and it gets really busy.

And I'm like, okay.

And I kind of trapped against this wall.

Oh, okay.

And the doors open and the people flood in.

And I look up and there's this couple, Jack and Terry,

that were there when the elevator doors opened up.

And God gave me another moment of grace.

And I really believe it is seconds and inches

because I could have found a tear and, you know,

drove and drank and, you know, done all the stuff.

And that moment of grace was like, oh my God,

I think I have a drinking problem.

You could have hit me over the head with a two by four.

And I've been going to AA ever since.

And that was in June, 1980.

I did do a little few outside issues because, you know,

I'm thinking that I'm smarter than everybody else.

And I just need a few outside issues to get me off alcohol.

And, but I was still going to meetings that whole time.

And I would go to this one young people's meeting

and kind of high on something else that you shouldn't be on.

Yeah, like I'm the first person that's ever done that.

So anyhow, it got me to a kegger out at Devil's Dip

one more time.

And that night, they said,

I was doing some major outside issues.

And then they're like, let's go down to the lake.

And we got a fifth of Jack Daniels.

And they had had like two people and they gave it to me.

I drank, I was really thirsty.

And I drink because I love the effects produced by alcohol

in my system.

I love it.

And I drank that and went to the lake,

took off all my clothes.

It's like four in the morning and nobody came in after me.

I could have easily drowned.

And I don't know how I made it home.

But the next morning I called AA and they came and got me.

And that was July 2nd.

And I truly believe that, believed sitting in those meetings

that I did not have what it took to stay sober.

Like strong enough, smart enough, anything enough

that I would be able to say no to alcohol

when I wanted to drink.

And I wanted to drink, the compulsion did not leave me

for a good six months.

And so I did what you told me to do.

I sat in meetings and I made the group

of Alcoholics Anonymous, whatever meeting I was in,

my higher power.

The, you know, G-O-D, group of drunks.

That was my first higher power because it worked.

I believed that you believed it.

I believed that you were smart enough.

I believe that you were strong enough

and that you guys had the light in your eyes

to end the big warm smiles and you got it.

And I just thought if I, you know, just keep showing up,

I'll feel like I'm strong enough to say no.

And I would say, you know, I'm just not gonna drink

until after the next meeting.

And I did that every day.

And I went to three meetings a day

and four on the Friday and Saturday.

I went to three and four meetings a day

for probably six, nine months.

And that's how I was able to not pick up that first drink.

And I believed it was a miracle.

I got a sponsor.

I jumped into the steps.

I got going.

I did what they did.

I did what they told me to do.

It was all reasonable.

You know, like Ben was saying,

it seemed unreasonable at the time, but you know,

it was not anything that people didn't do

for their own sobriety.

That's what I got.

I came to know.

You know, they're telling me what to do, what they did.

And it really is monkey see, monkey do.

And I'm just another monkey on the bus.

And I did what they told me to do.

And I got involved in everything.

I got commitments and we had dances

and volleyball tournaments and retreats.

I got smack dab in the middle of Alcoholics Anonymous.

And being in the middle, it's a lot,

you're less likely to get picked off from the sides.

And I did learn that early on

and it hasn't changed since then.

I, you know, a couple of years go by,

AA boy meets AA girl.

I got AA married and we were married for 25 years.

Had two beautiful, we have two beautiful kids

and they're 30 something and 30 something else.

- I put them on.

- Oh my goodness.

Yes, I had kids young in sobriety

and I have six grandchildren.

So, but, and I, and we were very involved.

My first husband and I were very involved.

And in AA, we just did everything

and it was good until it wasn't good.

And you know, the things that happened, you know,

it, you know, there's treated alcoholism

and there's untreated alcoholism.

And his, well I'll just say it,

his untreated alcoholism was really affecting

my treated alcoholism.

That's a nice way to say it.

And how it was affecting me was I was,

it was really affecting my emotional sobriety.

And emotional sobriety is very important

for my physical sobriety.

And you know, there's spiritual, emotional, mental

and physical and things were just going downhill

enough that all of a sudden I got a glimpse

that this really could affect my physical sobriety.

And that's where I said, no, I worked way too hard

to ever give up my physical sobriety.

So, you know, we got divorced.

That's the gist of it.

And after I got divorced, I was, you know,

it was like a new time in AA

and I got into a rebound relationship.

I highly don't recommend that.

Rebound relationships are wild and so much fun

until they're not.

And that's usually the case until they're not.

But after that, I got a different sponsor.

You know, every, anytime you're pointing your finger

at anybody, which, you know, I was,

I had three more pointing back at me

and my sponsor and I did a thorough inventory,

thorough fist step and looked at all my shortcomings

and defects of what I brought to the marriage

and what I was bringing to my life.

And, 'cause I really wanted to clean house.

I really wanted to clean the inside of the vessel.

I didn't want that to ever occur again.

And I was just fully enmeshed in AA

and helping the newcomer and every crazy newcomer

that walked into the club.

I raised my hand, I gave them their number,

I got their number, I took, drove them to meetings

and I just was in the middle and I was free.

I had, I was free.

It was, I hadn't felt that great in a very long time

in my sobriety and it's number one and always has been.

AA and God, they're just right there for me.

And you know, the God of my understanding

really comes from the big book.

It's pretty simple language in the book.

Works for me and that's what I use.

I don't have to redefine it.

I don't have to define it.

It's just very simple.

I trust God no matter what.

Then I'm just minding my own business

and I in walks this man into my home group

and I started listening.

I was looking a lot, but I started listening

and I could tell he had long-term sobriety

and he loved the book, he knew the book,

he loved working with newcomers.

He had a, you know, God in his life.

He got sober in Orange County

and his work took him to Seattle.

And it was a good six months before we, you know,

went out to coffee and then once we had

that first cup of coffee though, game on.

We got married on 10, 11, 12,

'cause they're my favorite steps, over 11, 2012.

And we had a really good life.

We had a really good life and it was absolutely amazing.

It's the best decade of my life.

And cut to the chase, he passed away in April last year.

He had over 40 years of sobriety

and he had had Hep C and he had cirrhosis.

We thought it was eradicated.

And they said, you know, if you have cirrhosis,

there's 10% chance you could have liver cancer.

And you know, we kind of laughed, like 10% chance.

(laughs)

Yeah, but he was in that 10%

and he was probably one of the best AAs

that I've ever known.

And he was a very humble man.

He did everything that you do in AA

and he did it quietly and he did it with a smile.

And he was like, every night of the week,

he was at a meeting and he picked up newcomers.

And we'd started a 7 a.m. meeting and a meditation meeting.

We'd always said, because he had had a long-term marriage

that didn't end well also.

And so we always believed that it was always God in AA,

'cause like I said, they're synonymous for us.

And so we started every day with that.

24-hour day book, three-minute meditation, very simple.

We didn't have to complicate it, but that's how we started.

And we had many, many wonderful adventures.

And so, you know, his company moved him to California

and I'm like, okay, Orange County,

I don't know about Orange County and I'm from the Valley.

And you know, so, you know, I had long-term sobriety.

We both did, it was like 10 years ago.

And it's hard to go just start again in a home group.

But I'd already had a sponsor

that was a member of Pacific Group,

should you have to come up.

So I started going to Pacific Group thinking,

this is wild and crazy.

This is AA that I don't know.

I'm from small town.

But I started going and I fell in love with it.

To me, it kind of represented old school AA,

like my dad got sober.

Not the amount of people, but just the, you know,

the respect of Alcoholics Anonymous and their tradition.

So it worked for me.

Also, I go to Bellflower Big Book on a regular basis.

And you know, I go, I'm just a part of that group also.

That was his home group.

But so we come down here,

I get myself all hooked up into Southern California AA.

I swear it's kind of like being on steroids, AA on steroids.

'Cause it's not like that up there.

And so he says, let's go to the International

in Atlanta, Georgia.

So this like 2000, what, 15.

And I'm like, okay, sounds good.

I've been to several.

Lisa and I went to one in San Antonio, San Diego, Seattle.

You know, I love them, they're awesome.

So Jeff says, yeah, well, let's ride the bike.

Five minutes, thank you very much.

Let's ride the motorcycle from LA to the East Coast.

And I thought he was joking.

And he says, no, he had, you know, big cruiser Harley.

And I'm like, okay, so we took three weeks

and we started out every day on, you know,

with our 24-hour day book, daily reflections,

asking God to show us the way.

Who do you want us to meet today?

Blah, blah, blah, keep us safe, blah, blah, blah.

Rode like 500 miles a day on a bike.

And it was the best three weeks of my life.

I loved it, I loved every minute of it.

Even, you know, some days one time

I fell asleep on the back of my head when we're home.

That was in Florida.

But so then we get to the International.

It's just fantastic, it's an amazing experience.

The next one's gonna be in Vancouver.

Very close, West Coast, highly recommend it.

So we're riding back and we're going through like,

you know, like Oklahoma, Texas, tornado alley, Bible Belt,

you know, and Jeff's pushing it hard.

And we had helmets with mics, you know, microphones,

whatever you call those things, both, thank you.

And, but the sky's getting really dark

and Jeff's pushing hard to get to this next town.

And we're in the middle of nowhere.

Sky's dark and all of a sudden it looks like

it's gonna downpour on us and the lightning's going.

And it's like over here and it's over here.

And it's like now like 180 degrees and I'm freaking out.

And you know, I'm like, Jeff, Jeff,

Google says that we have to get off the bike

in a lightning storm.

You have to get off the bike and you'll run into a field

and hunch over like a turtle.

Jeff, Jeff, do you hear me?

Jeff, we gotta stop.

And Jeff's like, well, sorry it's going 120 miles an hour.

But we're like in the middle of nowhere,

like the Bible Belt, you know,

and you all of a sudden you'll see a big cross pop up,

you know, and all of a sudden I see this big billboard

and it says, are you ready to meet your maker?

(all laughing)

And I was like, is this figurative or literal, God?

Not quite sure.

And I'm scared, I'm really scared.

And I trusted Jeff with everything,

but I was scared at that moment.

And I thought I would take that moment

to really take an inventory, like do an assessment.

And it's like that old Rolodex, you know,

it's like I just went through every area of my life,

you know, work, kid, family, higher power,

sponsor, husband, everything.

I just kind of, you know, God.

And you know, I came up pretty clean.

I came up, 'cause that's what 10's about,

the 10 steps about coming up clean.

Doesn't mean it's perfect.

I am not perfect, I never will be,

I don't work a perfect program,

but I try to do what the steps have laid out to do.

And I came up and I was free.

I was free and that's what I found in Alcoholics Anonymous,

that I can live free.

I don't have the monkey on my back.

That's what I hope you find in AA too.

Thank you.