Charles here, alcoholic.

I sometimes wonder how many midnight hours I spent in various stages of desperation. At various stages of my drinking career, feeling the pangs of loneliness. Hours spent babbling and sniffling on the telephone, lost completely, until the bill hit the mailbox. Or the lonely walks to the store trying to stock up before 2:00 AM rolled around, afraid I would run out of what I thought of as my life's blood. Trying to reach that nirvanic state, but gaining the creeping realization that it just would not come this night, and the blackness of unconsciousness was the only thing I had left to look forward to. The last night I got drunk and I blew up my marriage. It was the witching hour that finally did me in. And then, the nights that followed, it haunted me. I lived in total misery. I was giving up my family as well as what I thought of as my only friend ... John Barleycorn, Jack the Ripper. He had surely ripped out my heart. But now, I have a heart again, and the nights are a welcome, restful time. I couldn't care less if it's getting close to 2:00 AM. I'm not chasing a non-existent state of being. I live in the night that is, and I revel in it's intimacy. Now, when I call old friends, they are glad to hear my voice because they know I'm not drunk. I'm calling because I care about them, and I will remember talking to them the next day. Even in the darkest night, there is light that shines even in my soul. Just as the stars can light a moonless night from so very far away. Even when life gets me down, as it still does sometimes, I am reminded that there is good in my life. Tiny and far away though it may seem at the moment. If I just wait with patience, a new sun will rise. I am privileged to be here with you all tonight, blessed to be sober, and I live in joy at this dark hour because you light up my soul.

Thanks, all.