A Thing I Never Thought I’d Write

Done Hiding Behind You

Done Hiding Behind You

Dear Alcohol,

I think this has to be close to where it ends.  I am pushing out from under you, finding my breath beyond your heavy fog.

Rising.

This has never been a healthy relationship.  It has never been based on anything but need.  If a person caused me this much trouble, screamed at me so loud, hurt me, the way that you do… I’d have left them by now.  It’s been twelve years- nearly half my life searching for confidence, for numbness, for relief.  And what’s at the end of the quest?

I’ve been arrested.  I’ve thrown away jobs, I’ve hurt people, I’ve been lost by friends.  I have closed my eyes to the fact that you are hurting me. 
*Note: I haven’t “lost” jobs, or “lost” friends- those are not casual things you lose down the back of the couch, those are not things I was victim to. Those are things I have made passive and active decisions to discard.

I have closed my eyes to the fact that you are hurting me.   Slowly, they are opening.  This can’t carry on.  I can’t be well with you fuelling my illness… I can’t be happy when you make my sadness feel earned, feel pure, feel attractive.  You have made me feel that I am nothing to be proud of.

And I am not going to do this any more.  I haven’t “lost” jobs like I haven’t “lost” friends, like I’m not “losing” you: I am giving you up.

It won’t be easy but it will, it will, be worth it.

Not yours,

B.

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