March 30th, 1982
One year and one week of sobriety. Last Saturday I qualified at an afternoon meeting. Wendy was in town for the event. Tonight I panicked and could not go through with being on the anniversary panel at St. Luke’s. I am hot. I am cold. I am happy. I am suicidal. Thunderstorm tonight. The explosion of charged air. I fall back to a blue television blur now. Another night survived.