Its been a long time since I actually used alcohol to deal with problems in my life…so long I can barely remember. Back then I didn’t really have a choice as to what I’d drown my sorrow with but no longer is that the case. My freezer looks like something you’d find in a frat house: full of alcohol and ice with no food.
I’ve tried very hard not to end up in situations like this one. I’ve seen the road people stumble down when they let alcohol become their crutch. My father, my grandmother, my uncle…all fell victim to its blisful deception. I’ve seen family and friends start down that dark road. None return unscathed…if they return at all…
Why on earth would I risk everything I’ve done up till this point? Quite simply, I’ve *ucked up in a most spectacular fashion. Never has anything I’ve ever done been this horrid. Not only have I screwed myself over, but my mistake will affect others like a ripple though a pond. Who knows how my action will reverberate, touching those around me?
I came home with every intention of diving head-first into my freeze but after opening the door and seeing the light glisten off of six beautiful bottles I hesitated. which was very odd. I’ve never hesitated when it came to drinking or eating my problems away. In fact, that has been the source of the second biggest problem in my life. But for some odd reason this time I did just that and closed the freezer door.
The old saying goes when one door closes a window opens. In this case, I think the window might be a greater level of maturity. However, I can’t trust myself to slam that window and yank open the door… So I just sit here on the couch, alone with my thoughts while my freezer torments me with the false promise of blessed release from my emotional prison…