Storied Addicts
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Storied Addicts

Mick Jagger Gimme Shelter

My recovery was just a flash away

There is a spherical halo obliterating the head of a rock star on a cat walk . A crowd surrounds the protruding stage.
Photo by Tony Pham on Unsplash

Fifteen years ago on his Bigger Bang tour Mick Jagger found me between a rock and a hard place, in a crossfire hurricane. Preloaded, titrating, kissing perfect strangers.

Ooh, a storm is threatening my very life today. If I don’t get some shelter Ooh Yeah, I’m going to fade away

During Jumpin’ Jack Flash I stood on a chair beside the catwalk. As Mick approached I pulled my low cut silk sweater down, tearing it to expose my breasts. We locked eyes. He raised his tight t shirt dazzling us with an age defying six pack. That was it. The pinnacle of my illustrious life thus far. It was reported in the newspaper. I still have my academic credentials. Maybe there is Higher Power.

Little did I know that I was the designated host of the after party. I still had a credit card but no credit. No expenses were spared by the jovial assembly of neighbours. I kept the tear in my sweater patent by revealing a guitar pick I had caught from Keith Richards. No one missed out.

Our sober driver dropped me off last. That gave the man across the lane an opportunity to grope me in the back seat never getting past my hemorrhoids. Embarrassment? Surprisingly little at the park with our sons. I counted on him having blacked out. Back to the back seat night of. I wondered why I was the last out. The driver turned around but before I could make a pass at him, he admonished me; “You don’t have to live like this”. He handed me his very own blue book with hand written notes. (AA abbreviated bible). Years later I passed it on to someone I thought was ready to seize a better life, complete with notes such as:

“I don’t like the effect alcohol has on me.”

“No thank you.”

“I have a disease. The treatment is life long abstinence.”

Four am found me home; my husband and teenage daughter waiting up for me with chagrin and condemnation. They had been at the same concert. For once I was not defensive. No Hey (Hey) you (you) get off of my cloud.

If you start me up, if you start me up, I’ll never stop. You make a grown man cry.

I look inside myself and see my (I’ll) heart is black.

I was a beast of burden to alcohol, who stole many a man’s soul and faith.

Betraying liquid lover, I don’t miss you.

As time passed and my brain healed, finally, what I wanted become what I needed.

I still dance on tables.

Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

She comes in colours everywhere; she’s a rainbow.



This publication focuses on stories about alcohol, drug, and other debilitating addictions, cherishing honesty and courage from its writers. Stories from addicts about other subjects, such as co-occurring mental health issues are also welcome.

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Isak Dinesen

Isak Dinesen


"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive. What the world needs is people who have come alive. " - Howard Thurman (AfricanAmerican)