Friday, 26 August 2011


The alcholism, then. A strange beast which destroys half of your life and leaves you perfectly fuctional for the rest, at least for me. I can't speak of other people's experience. It seems it's usually people who aren't drinkers who comment on us drinkers. I'm not fond of them. Everyone's different so I've no idea why the rest of the drinkers drink... I'll leave it to them to tell their story.

A friend wishes to know of my experience of drinking, however, so here we go. Why not be more honest with an American drunk you love than a counsellor you don't trust for a second?

I drink mainly because when I'm sober I find life so boring I find myself boring and am then unable to conjure validations to make myself interesting to other people; basically I suppose it's a self-worth thing, but it is not overcomeable simply by having knowledge of this deficiency. Chemically, when my head is tired of being here, it needs something more than a funny TV programme to let me escape it. Drinking has been the best solution.

You should listen to Maximo Park for a bit. "Some things are worth the bruises, some things are worth the hurt." You know what that means.

I think I'll probably die young of some sort of alcohol-based disease but I know for sure I'm okay at the moment after a load of tests. Maybe 50 or 60, I'll be gone. I'm not bothered. I am, really; I love my sisters and the thought of not seeing them makes me cry. Everything they do matters to me more than anything, and always has done. I mean that when I say always - probably because of a strange combination of being 8 years older than the elder one and just being generally fond of them; they've always mattered more to me than anything.

Perhaps the synopsis of what I have just written, upon re-reading, is a journey into the subconscious. I drink to escape the reality I hate and then find the people I love to make things feel better.

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