12 years ago yesterday I started on a path and had no idea where that would lead-all I knew was that I couldn't continue to do what I was doing and for the first time in my life, I didn't want to die. I was a somewhat functioning alcoholic-meaning I was still employable; and for a long time was able to conceal the daily horror of having to repeat something that wasn't good for me only to give me superficial and temporary relief from my mind's constant chatter. I'm sure that has a label now, but back then I was just considered annoying, bothersome and ungrateful. I never felt comfortable in my skin-everyday felt like the first day of school, nervous, twisted guts, frustrated, and kind of angry that everyone else "knew" how to do life, and were generally ok with everything and everyone-so and I had to fake it or mimic them. I was a false representation of myself; I had no idea who I was and hated myself for the start. I seemed to have a predisposition to be ...