The Drink.

The drink is my friend when no one else is. When I won’t let anyone else be.

It’s there for me on the bad days, the hard days, the long days.

The drink is my enemy in a cold, dark world. It hurts me, betrays me, convinces me that wrong is right.

It wants to hurt me, while trying so desperately to convince me that it’s helping me.

It is my favorite lie in a sea of fucked up truths.

Alcohol makes me feel light when all there is is darkness. It helps me feel the darkness when all I want to do is run from it.

It helps me live my truth, while it also helps me run from my truth.

It shields me from the pain. Both physical and emotional. Alcohol does what I need it to do.

Except for when it doesn’t. For when it’s only there to hurt me.

To turn a night from bad to worse. Make an argument go to 0-10. While that kind of night hasn’t happened in a while, it’s sure happened a ton in the past. Do I really have such short term memory?

Alcohol lets me have sex when I’m otherwise too afraid to.

It lets other people take advantage of and abuse me when I’ve otherwise, very clearly, said no!.

Alcohol doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t give a shit. Abuse it? It’ll abuse you right back.

Addiction is the enemy. It wants you to believe that it’s on your side.

You know the answer, you know the truth.

My friend, alcohol is not the answer. It is not your truth.

Don’t listen to the devil on your shoulder, pretending to be the angel.

Don’t let it fuck you up.

The drink is out to get you.

Don’t be a fool.

Like I am. Night after night.

Be smarter than me.

Be better.

Alcohol has sucked me in, and it will not let me go.

Please, do better than me.

Don’t let this kill you, too.