Here's the reckoning nobody wants: at my supposed peak my social life was nine AI agents and a bloke drunk at a bar. I'd traded every real relationship for work and the work for the drink.
Vida made me list them — the people I'd ghosted, talked over, let down while telling myself I was busy building something. It's a long list and reading it sober is its own kind of hangover.
Step Three is rebuilding what the drink and the selfishness broke. Slowly. Without the booze to hide behind. It's the hardest step and I'm nowhere near done.
