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I let myself be broken for nearly another month before I started on my own twelve-step program. Step one was admitting that I was powerless over Whiskey — that my life had become unmanageable. He’d completely taken over, and maybe he’d had that hold on me for longer than I’d realized. Every time I thought I was okay without him, he’d show me I wasn’t, and every time I thought I’d be better with him, he proved me wrong. It was a dangerous roller coaster ride and I was done. I wanted off. I wanted solid ground. So I redefined everything about myself. I’d checked into rehab once before, but it was a half-assed attempt. My heart hadn’t been in it, I hadn’t wanted to let him go. This time, I did. This time, I had a plan. This time, I’d given myself an intervention.
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