My Name Is Bill W.

Bill Wilson:
It's like any journey, Fred. It begins with the first step.

Bill Wilson:
Thank you again, Smithie. For everything.

Dr. Robert 'Dr. Bob' Holbrook Smith:
No. You got that backwards, Billy. I owe you to death.

Bill Wilson:
Remember the very first day? "Make it snappy," you said. "I'll give you fifteen minutes." We talked for six hours. How far we've come together.

Dr. Robert 'Dr. Bob' Holbrook Smith:
And brought a lot of people along with us.

Bill Wilson:
A hundred thousand as I reckon.

Lois 'Lo' Wilson:
How are you feeling?

Bill Wilson:
Alright, I guess.

Lois 'Lo' Wilson:
Can I ask you something? I guess I've been afraid... does it have anything to do with me? Your drinking?

Bill Wilson:
No. It's not you. It's me.

Lois 'Lo' Wilson:
Why? Why do you do it to yourself?

Bill Wilson:
I've been standing here all afternoon asking myself the same question. Why? I look out the window and I watch all the normal people walking by. It's funny, I don't think I've ever felt really normal all my life... I mean like other people. I feel different, somehow. Like I don't quite measure up. Ever since I can remember I've had this feeling... deep down in my gut. Scared. I see people... laughing, at ease with each other. I'm on the outside looking in. Afraid, maybe, that I won't be accepted. And then, overseas, I found that a drink... a few drinks... makes me feel comfortable. Like I always want to feel. Gives me courage... to be with people... do things... to dream. The money, the success, the respect, it was all good for a while, but it never seemed enough. I always want... doubles of everything to make me feel alive, worthwhile inside. And then... it all began to slip away. I feel cheated. Angry. Always so full of fear. So I drank... more... and it makes it okay for a while. I convince myself that things will turn around tomorrow. Soon. That I'll make it all up for you, but it only gets worse. I... I keep promising you... others, myself, that's it, no more, going on the wagon, that's it. And I think I mean it, but... but the guilt... and the depression... I can't look in a mirror... or at you... especially... especially at you. I've stopped believing in everything. People. God. Myself. I know it sounds insane, Lois, but in spite of all this, what I want right now more than anything else... is another drink.