Bill's Story (Continued)
 
C: For the first time in his life, Bill could see what alcohol was doing to him. The next paragraph he said: (p. 5, par. 5)
'I woke up. This had to be stopped. I saw I could not take so much as one drink. I was through forever. Before then, I had written iota of sweet promises, but my wife happily observed that this time I meant business. And so I did.' He sang our national anthem. He said, I ain't never going to take another drink of that stuff as long as I live. Now, Bill had an amazing amount of will power. Bill was one of these guys
(who) came from nothing. He was a self-made man. We saw him educate himself as a lawyer through night law school. We saw him go from somebody with no financial means at all to actually for a period of time a multimillionaire.
Bill had an extreme amount of will power. He assumed that now that I want to stop drinking, all I've got to do is put the will power to it, and I'll be okay. but then: Shortly afterward I came home drunk. There had been no fight.' Where had been my high resolve? I simply didn't know. It hadn't even come to mind. Someone had pushed a drink my way, and I had taken it. Was I crazy? I began to wonder, for such an appalling lack of perspective seemed near being just that.
'Renewing my resolve, I tried again. Some time (top of p. 6) passed, and confidence began to be replaced by cocksureness. I could laugh at the gin mills. Now I had what it takes! One day I walked into a cafe to telephone. In no time I was beating on the bar asking myself how it happened. As the whisky rose to my head I told myself I would
manage better next time, but I might as well get good and drunk then. And I did.' I have no trouble identifying with Bill Wilson.
Last paragraph page six: (p. 6, par. 3; p. 7, par. 1) The mind and body are marvelous mechanisms, for mine endured this agony two more years. Sometimes I stole from my wife's slender purse when the morning terror and madness were on me. Again I swayed dizzily before an open window, or the medicine cabinet where there was poison, cursing myself for a weakling. There were flights from city to country and back, a. my wife and I sought escape. Then came the night when the physical and mental torture was so hellish I feared I would burst through my window,
sash and all. Somehow I managed to drag my mattress to a lower floor, feat I suddenly leap. A doctor came with (top of p. 7) a heavy sedative. Next day found me drinking both gin and sedative. This combination soon landed me on the rocks.'
We talk today as if dual addiction is something brand new. Bill had a problem with this way back in the '30's. So did Dr. Bob, and so did many of the first one hundred people. (p. 7, par. 1) 'People feared for my sanity. So did I. I could eat little or nothing when drinking, and I
was forty pounds under weight. ' Now we see the progression of the disease to the point where we're beginning to die from alcoholism. We can't eat anymore. Malnutrition has got us. Unless something happens pretty fast, we're going to die from our disease. Bill was very fortunate. He said: (p. 7, par. 2) 'My brother-in-law is a physician...'
This is a fellow named Dr. Leonard Strong. (p. 7, par. 2) '... and through his kindness and that of my mother I was placed in a nationally-known hospital for the mental and physical rehabilitation of alcoholics. Under the so-called belladonna treatment my brain cleared. Hydrotherapy and mild exercise helped much. Best of all, I met ~ kind doctor who explained that though certainly selfish and foolish, I had been seriously ill, bodily and mentally.' This is the summer of 1933. We're now in the Towns Hospital, and Bill has been talking to Dr. Silkworth.
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