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Looking back, with 20-20 hindsight, I suppose there were a few signs. But that’s what all recovering alcoholics are apt to say. I drank in law school, and before that, too. I smoked marijuana. It was a wild, hippie time. I’d like to say I did it all, but I didn’t. I’m basically pretty conservative, careful and afraid of drugs. I stayed away from drugs because I knew that I would love them.

I grew up fairly normally. I did well in school and sports-not the best, but near the top. I had friends and even some girlfriends. I was essentially shy, and I would be so nervous going out on a date I would freeze up. I couldn’t eat for fear I would do something wrong (e.g., spill food, dribble or commit some other faux pas)

You never imagine your own child will become a homeless, hopeless, disoriented drug addict-the type of person you may have helped over the years as a criminal lawyer or encountered when looking for a trendy Gastown restaurant.

I come by both of these honestly; my father was also an alcoholic and a lawyer. By the time he died, though, he’d been sober for 15 years. I was still furious at him for the unpleasantries of my childhood, and failed to notice that I myself had crossed the line and become an alcoholic, rather than merely a heavy drinker who could definitely keep up with the boys.

My story is not so different from those I have heard from other alcoholics, save for some of the details. I had a lot of good times that involved drinking, but eventually the fun disappeared.

It was my first year as a lawyer. I was convinced that I should be able to handle the stress of practice. Every day that my billable hours were not on target, I told myself that I should be able to do better tomorrow. I had a trial go sideways and was convinced that I should have known more about trial work and done better. My girlfriend, also a lawyer, was working 12- to 16- hour days, and I said I should be able to do the same. After all, with all my debts from law school, I had no choice, I told myself.