The worst thing that happened when my life was eaten up with alchoholism (active addiction) and debilitating pain was that I was too blind to see the world as it was around me. And waking up to this world was at once refreshing and heartbreaking when I saw the wake of my actions, and the actions of some people who were once very close to me. Ending addiction doesn't mean there are going to be fuzzy ponies -- at no point does sobriety offer you fuzzy ponies (well, perhaps on Leap Year).
Sometimes there is no going home, and that means the people who were that 'home.' And it sucks but it is how it is if I want to stay in recovery.
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