Then there were the patients who had real problems with alcohol. The ones who came in asking for help. The ones whose loved ones came in asking for help. Surely, in my mind I wasn’t like that. Surely I wasn’t “that bad”. In reality, oh yes, I was that bad. That’s the beauty of denial. We can twist our versions of reality however we would like to. We can twist our truths to allow us to continue on with this kind of self inflicted abuse.
