An Open Letter to Alcohol

Dear Alcy,

Is it okay if I still call you that? I know we went on a break, but I still feel like we’re close. It was only 111 days, and I mean I came running right back, didn’t I?

You understand why I needed the break, don’t you? Alcoholism runs on all sides of my family, and within the last year, I’ve realized that I have alcoholic tendencies. I wasn’t reliant on you, but I couldn’t moderate myself when I started drinking you. I would reach a comfortable level of buzzed, decide I could handle a few more drinks, and go too far. It wasn’t a good cycle. It led to many bad decisions, and copious amounts of guilt to accompany those decisions.

After our break, I thought I could handle you again. I thought I was ready to try since I knew it was possible to live without you. I wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wasn’t exactly right, either. It really depends on what mood I’m in before I start drinking.

Last night I was feeling reckless. I was tired of doing work, I was tired of Dapper being too busy to hang out with me, and I was anticipating another night alone while Corey and Haley canoodled in his bed. We went to a party, and I proceeded to get very drunk. I didn’t do anything particularly stupid, and I asked Corey to come back for me minutes after I told him to go home without me (that was the best decision I made all night), but it was not good. Your hold on me was too strong.

When I drink you, it’s like getting a hug from the inside. My skin starts to tingle and my hair feels like strands of electricity shooting out from my head. Your different forms have specific feelings and memories attached to them. Blue Moon is my favorite beer, but it tastes like fun nights with bad decisions. Whiskey is my drink of choice, but it has been the main contributor to many of my black outs. Honey whiskey is sweet, and I’ll never forget the last time I got drunk on that version of you because that was the night we hooked up with an unexpected person, remember?

When you have your hold over me, I don’t care that my body isn’t good enough for the crop top I’m wearing, and I don’t mind hitting on boys way younger than me, or older for that matter. You get in my head and make me think everything is a good idea. After drinking you, my words are slurred, but my thoughts are clear as vodka. I understand that I’m not the girl guys want to take home to Mom, but the I’m the one everyone wants to dance with. I’m the girl it’s okay to be inappropriate with because I appear to like it. I’m the one who clearly doesn’t respect herself, so why should everyone else have to?

Why don’t you ever stand up for me? Don’t you care about me at all? I already know the answer to that. It’s no. You don’t care about me. You are poisonous. It’s not always a terrible time when we’re together, but the ratio is biased towards “wow this kinda sucks.” You are poisonous. Sometimes I like the uninhibited me, but especially after nights like last night, I feel so unclean. And why would I purposely make myself feel that way? Why would you let me feel this way? It’s stupid, but I am not a stupid person.

So as of right now, I’m establishing new rules for us. I will only drink you if I am in a stable mindset beforehand, if I’ve had a sufficient amount to eat that day, if I’m with people I trust, and never alone. Also, I will always stop drinking you the second my skin starts to tingle. If I can’t stick to these rules, then I’m quitting you again. If I don’t learn to control myself, I’m better off just doing without, so it won’t be a break, it will be a break up. Sometimes when you love something you have to let it go.

If I’m being honest, I think I see that in our near future. You better hope the new rules work, because I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

Forever yours Yours for an undetermined amount of time,

Severn

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