Did I, an alcoholic, have a defective character? Of course I did.
Was I, an alcoholic, also a sick man? Yes, very.
To what extent I was personally responsible for my drinking, I don't know.
Yet I'm not one to take complete refuge in the idea that I was a sick man only.
In earlier years I certainly had some degree of free will.
That free will I used badly, to the great misery of my mother
and countless others. I am deeply ashamed.
As one who knows me a little, you may have heard how, ten years ago,
a friend, himself a liberated alcoholic, came to me bearing the light
which finally led me out of the toils.
There will come a day like that for you and yours -- I'm so confident!
As ever, Bill W.
Letter to the Mother of an Alcoholic, December 1944.
Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible,
and achieves the impossible.
H O P E = Heart Open; Please Enter
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