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November 1st, 1981
I am awed by a sense of being cared for. On a daily basis, this program gives me exactly what I need. Yesterday turned out to be a whiny drink fighting day. After a few hours in the office getting David started on the project that Allen left unfinished— I went uptown to see a movie I’ve been wanting to see— “Taxi Zum Klo”. a German film that had much acclaim in this year’s New York Film Festival. I enjoyed the movie— but it was about lovers and domesticity and promiscuity and partying and drinking and drugging. I left the theater feeling in a lot of whining pieces— feeling deprived— restless. I cam back to the Village and Halloween was in the air— drag queens on every corner— that excitement gearing up for Christopher Streets annual night of revelry and partying. I went to Boots and Saddle and stood in a corner and drank my Saratoga and felt sorry for myself. I starting having fantasies of what circumstances or misfortune would compel me to drink. This list included Sadie or Wendy dying. A full-fledged physical craving for alcohol developed. By the time I went to a meeting last night, I was loaded with self pity— righteous despair and smoldering hostility. I wanted to drink. I heard a lot of gut level talk about dying from alcoholism— and a lot of strength about the true joys of living sober. My mood changed completed to one of deep gratitude. Mack was there— also in a mood. It is good to see him— we go to dinner together and later bar hop till 2:00 AM— up and down Christopher Street. A night out— just what I needed. I come home sober and joyful. I am deprived of nothing but the insanity of alcohol.