I drink because I’m happy. I drink because I’m sad, lonely, angry or to reward myself for being sober for a week.

I drink because I want to. I drink when I don’t want to. I drink for no reason and any reason. I drink today because I drank yesterday and want to feel better. But I won’t. I drink alone sneaking bottles into my house so my neighbours won’t see and slip the empties out in the trash for fear the recycling centre staff think I’m a drunk.

I drink because I feel helpless and weak. I don’t drink because I feel helpless and weak.

There’s the irony in it. I drink to feel better but don’t. I drink to escape but remain a prisoner. I drink in celebration and create a tragedy. I revel at night and wallow in the morning.

It’s hard to believe or comprehend. At times, impossible to deny. Painful to live with but less so to be without.

I am bruised and tired. I don’t need that kind of hurt anymore. Today I will try just a bit harder. Today I will take one step towards healing. When today comes to an end I will have a yesterday behind me and a new day ahead.

This post is by Rob Morton , the self-published author of Stuff I Wrote and a member of BOOM the Independent, anonymous, private community inside Boozemusings.

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