Thursday, July 8, 2004

Five years ago, Tanya Gold was admitted to the Priory with a catastrophic alcohol problem...

I realised I was an alcoholic the day I mounted Brian Sewell. It was deepest lunchtime, one Tuesday in 1999, and I was working as a gossip columnist at the London Evening Standard. I was drinking vodka from a Pepsi can and writing about dog fashion shows. Then, out of the fractures of my brain, burst a "rock-bottom". I looked across the office and saw the art critic, sitting at his desk.

I decided to "take" Brian. I lunged, straddled him - and the newsroom gaped. As I was peeled off, a pale Sewell said, "If I was ever unsure I'm a homosexual, I'm not now," and I was dispatched to the Priory Hospital, a Victorian Gothic mansion just north of Richmond Park. With battlements, en-suite bedrooms and a jewellery shop, the loony-bin of tabloid lore looks like the Savoy spliced with Broadmoor. It costs £3,000 a week.

To find more about Tanya Gold and to see if Brian Sewell made it out alive, read [more»]
{a nod to - tmftml who notes most rehab stories are boring; this opening is interesting} Not only do I find it interesting, it's gutsy as hell. And a little too familiar. Believe it.

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It wasn't long after 9/11, September 11, 2001, that I began this website. I felt compelled to connect with other people around the globe. I had recently heard about "weblogs" or "blogs" and I dove right into Blogger.com. I searched for others to connect with online and I found Ageless. It led to meeting many great friends to discuss events of the day. From then on it snowballed. Most importantly we offered one another support and friendship across the globe; finding that we were just a few keystrokes away.

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