"Alcoholics can't take any addictive substances," Wanda told me on the phone a moment go. "You're playin' with fire son."
"I don't know what to do," I replied, lost. "The quality of my life was at it's lowest point. I couldn't go any lower."
"Are you going to take it?" she asked.
"I already have," I replied. "I've taken one today."
"It will only lead to you drinking again," she replied tersely.
Sigh! I told her goodbye after she told me to keep in touch. I stammered into my den to pick up my other pill and took it. I am at the point where I will gamble with this pill to feel better. I felt so badly. Maybe it is just the alcoholic in me talking, but I feel so much better. How can something that makes you feel so well again be so bad? These pills are scary and coy.