My sincere thanks to the author of “Stoned Alone” (11/14). I can relate very well. I’m there, too, but in recovery from my lover—Chardonnay. I never understood how a bottle less than 6 years old could kick a woman’s ass who was 36, now 37. But it did. My story is a little different. I still had stuff—materially—and a job, but I just wanted to die. I was emotionally and spiritually bankrupt.

I told my employer I was an alcoholic and needed help. My bosses seemed supportive. They suggested I see an EAP counselor, who recommended I go to a treatment center for my “disease.” I did but was fired a little more than three months later…by the federal government. The reason? Unreliable attendance. (I called in sick two weeks in eight months.) My work was excellent according to my bosses, but I do believe they thought I was a weak-willed wench who couldn’t control what I put in my mouth. (One boss told me he quit drinking on his own after his last campaign…without help.)

I do hope that one day government agencies will believe the American Medical Association when it says alcoholism is a disease and abide by the Americans With Disabilities Act and not fire someone because he/she is sick.

(I don’t mind if you use my name. I’m not ashamed anymore of being

an alcoholic.)

Capitol Hill

via the Internet