"It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while. But with the alcoholic, whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feelings we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit. The insanity of alcohol returns and we drink again. And with us, to drink is to die.
If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics these things are poison." - The Big Book.
I’ve spent the last fourteen years aka the longevity of my ‘drinking career’ in a perpetual state of despair. From slamming tequilas. To slamming myself into the pathway of cars. Frequenting the latest dive bars. And becoming best friends with chasers to greet my wrists with razors. My nights were a safe bet to be set of one sure thing, and that was the misery that first drink would bring. It always starts out harmless. I’ll be charming. Totally disarming. Then the sadness slowly starts to slip in with every sip. I can feel it immediately penetrating my veins. I’ll ignore it. Maybe the next drink will cure it. The anxiety is creeping in now. Fuck it. I’ll choke it with another slammer. It’s getting worse. In a few short seconds at the sense of neglect. I’ll start spitting venom. See I’ll hurt you before you ever have the chance to hurt me. “Hello”. “Fuck off”. I hate everyone in this room.
I’ll cut my losses. My boyfriend hates me. At this point my friends are only tolerating me. I’ll just split. A swift French exit. I could write a manuscript on how to ruin your friendships. They’ll sigh a relief once they realise I’ve gone. My boyfriend can keep working the room. Continue leading girls on. Without a worry that I’ll be overcome with jealousy. But I see now how that in itself was very wrong. My friends can continue getting wasted. Without a worry that I’ll fuck up the scene. I’m in the uber. I have it all planned out. Goodbye mum and dad. You did your best but your better off without me. No doubt. My lover had become obsessed with Bourdains’ suicide. I guess in my delirium this embarked upon my brain. Ingrained right in there. I know to you this will sound insane. So I get home. I slash up my wrists. A playground for my razors. I know. It too, makes me feel sick. Then I see my dressing gown cord. I see my bedroom door. It all makes sense now. I take another sip. I down my Dutch courage. My enlightenment. My only friend. I knew you would see me there. To the bitter end. I Youtube slipknots. You see I gotta get this perfect. Then my rationality kicks in. Maybe this loss of air has given me some reasoning. ‘What the fuck are you doing’ my brain cries. And I loosen it. Set myself free. Fucking hell. I don’t want to die. This time he was watching on. I begged him to stop me. But he turned his head. As if he had already forgotten me. At the time I read this as his permission to continue in the state of insanity I was participating in.
I’m loosing friends now. I’ve become insufferable. The life & death of the party. Everyone’s treading eggshells. Do we call the police? Her mental health is in meltdown! I am no longer fun to be around. And trust me I hate myself more than I hate you. But I am heading towards ‘wet brain’. I am out of control and there is nothing I can do. And now he’s left me. He hates me for reasons I can only guess upon. Though I am not oblivious. I know the main one. But he has given me no chance to right my wrongs. You see I never realised the impact suicide attempts had on others. Until I was on the receiving end. And I almost lost a brother. The sleepless nights. The what ifs? Being so powerless. So angry. Life truly is the most beautiful gift. Yet there is no rationality. No reasoning with a drunken mind. Once its made up. You go to sleep. Or you die. And I am so sorry for the pain I’ve caused. To every single one of you reading this, that it has impacted. Over time I promise you, I will make amends. Just give me a chance to heal. Give me a chance to right my wrongs. I can prove to you that I love my life. That is one thing I am sure of. That now I am of sober mind. I can promise you. I am now a month sober. My world is full of calm. It is full of peace. It is full of clarity. I see the evil that the poison does to me. And I have no desire to ever go back there. I know a lot of you won’t believe this. I have a lifetime of empty promises. A lifetime of disappearing self esteem. There is a lot of damage left to be undone. But I understand now all of my past choices have been so wrong. The world wouldn’t be a better place without me. I am a beautiful soul. I have so much left to give. And so do you. If you are in a place where you are in a state of despair. Don’t give up. I promise you it gets so much better. Just hang on in there.