About the Author

“Let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.” (Hebrews 10:22)

I’ve struggled with alcoholism and depression for the better part of my adolescent life and into adulthood. Almost three years ago, after the passing of my father and with a life spiraling quickly out of control, I finally found what I was looking for all along — God. I’d like to tell you that I didn’t find Him sloshing around in the bottom of a tequila bottle, in the last crumbles of weed in my dresser drawer, in the last drag of a cigarette, or in the arms of a stranger, but I did. I used all of these things to fill the giant void in my heart, a void that I later discovered could only truly be filled by a power greater than myself.

I’d also like to tell you that I was immediately cured of all my ailments the my eyes were opened, but that would be a lie. In fact, it seems like I was drawn deeper into the bottle than I’d ever been before. I knew I had a real problem with alcohol and I had to stop. So I did, for eight months. Unfortunately, like many alcoholics, I thought I had conquered the beast and in February of 2016, I gave in. I missed drinking. I missed that tingling warm feeling that moved through my body like a river of soothing escape. I missed the first moments of insight and innovation. I missed the seduction of falling back into my own darkness, numbed from the past and blind to the future. It was just me and the bottle. My lost friend and companion—the devil in disguise.

The years that followed — up until my current sobriety birthday, February 9, 2018 — were a battle of spiritual warfare. A game of tug-of-war between the past and the future.

Getting wasted was easy, giving in was easy, turning away from God was easy. But sobriety, sobriety is hard, letting go of the past is hard, returning to my conception of God is hard.

But my worst day sober, is far better than my best day drunk. 

I have this angel card that I’ve kept in my journal for a couple of years now. I have no idea who gave it to me or where it came from. I actually lose it quite often. In fact, I couldn’t tell you which book it’s stuffed into right now. But it always mysteriously appears. A beautiful little mystery I suppose.

It is a little green card with the word Writing at the top. There is a picture of what appears to be an image of Jesus with angel wings and a young girl with a notebook and pencil in hand in front of him. At the bottom of the card read the words, “You heal, inspire, teach, and entertain with the words you write.”

I’m not sure who this blog is for. Maybe it’s for me, maybe it’s for God, or maybe it’s for some stranger I’ve never even met before. Regardless of who it’s for, it’s my story.

A Note About Alcoholics Anonymous & The Twelve Traditions:

Ten – Alcoholics Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues, hence the A.A. name ought never be drawn into public controversy.

Eleven – Our public relations policy is based upon attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and films.

I do not wish to be drawn into public controversy. I’m simply sharing my experience as a recovering alcoholic. While I do not share my full name on this blog, therefore keeping in line with AA’s tradition of anonymity, I do occasionally share these blog posts on my Facebook page.

The reason I share these posts is for my own continued sobriety. I do not get to keep what I do not give away. My hand will forever be open if anyone, anywhere, reaches out for the hand of AA.

— Kirsten A.

Grateful recovering alcoholic and member of Alcoholic’s Anonymous.