The Unspoken Source of Anxiety
My hangover was terrible, but I could survive that.
The nausea was palpable, but I knew it would pass.
The discipline was severe, but I deserved it.
What I couldn't bear was the guilt.
Our family tree is marked by a blight of alcoholism. My dad made it clear: alcohol abuse leads to trouble, and that trouble leads to misery. More than once I promised that I would never get drunk.
Then why did I? Why did I, at the age of 16, get so ragingly inebriated that I could not drive? Why did I drive a..