Alcohol. That sweetest of fucking bitches. I think of my lips around that Bombay sapphire like your lips around my pussy, theres a need that would kill me. I’ve kept this up for almost a year now, this sober charade. Because as any true addict knows it’s always a fucking charade. Sobriety.
Years ago I quit cocaine, and pills. I left it all behind for a better life. Successfully. But everything I do everyday, not a day goes by that I don’t think about it. I look up at the stars at night and think how much brighter they looked when I was high, how everything moved faster and slower all at once, how if I was high I could stay up all night and watch them. This is the hell I live in, everyday.
Heightened life experiences that will forever dim my world bear down heavy on me. They fuck up my relationships. Sex. Everything. Imagine all of your first sexual experiences in life were on heavy drugs, ecstasy, cocaine, heroin, all manner of perception opioids, that you couldn't even remember half of them if they were consensual or not? Imagine your parents were the people who first gave you drugs.
I hate them, these drugs and memories. How they have fucked with me and everything sweet. My emotions.
Alcohol was my escape for so very long my sweet mistress bitch. I kept her hidden. Bottles and bottles so many so no one noticed just how much. More empties behind clothes in my closet when I would get paranoid.
And then I told her to go away. I wanted to face all this bullshit for some reason. Play the sobriety game. I wish for just a day, one day in my life I could live without this weight on my chest. I wonder what it feels like to not have it there? I was never going to know I guess. I come from a long line of addicts. I’m just lucky I got away.
Today was a hard day. Had a few of them lately and I feel this little castle of strength I’ve built crumbling. I drove out into the desert and just sat. Smoked some cigarettes and convinced myself it really is a good idea to stay sober STILL. As if there is some time frame on this.
People look at me like I’m a successful woman or some shit. I’m trying to be. But truthfully I’m either on the brink of it or I’ve destroyed my life in the last year and sitting where I am I cant tell sometimes and it’s terrifying.
Least I have my cigarettes.