This disease, this malady is such a devious illness. My disease tells me that I don’t have a disease. How sick is that? I believe that we each hold a description of what being an alcoholic looks like. It’s different for each of us. I had this preconceived notion that to be an alcoholic I had to be a daily drinker, maybe one that hung out on street corners and drank from a brown paper bag. Someone who did not have a regular job, a car, insurance, family, or any of the other attributes that define the “regular” drinker. I remember being the lonely woman sitting at the end of the bar, with a drink in my handing waiting for the next one to hit the bar. How sad is that? I had no hope, no place to go, and no one to love me. How absolutely lonely and miserable I was – and little did I know that I had a problem. But for the grace of God, and the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, I would still be “out there” battling my denial. Today I accept that I have a problem, but now I have a solution thanks to the WE of the program.