Anybody who has known me for the past couple years knows my struggle with alcohol. I have been through a whole lot of shit that never really needed to happen if I didn't pick up a drink first. This isn't to say that I'm not glad I didn't go through the bad shit to get to where I am today, four months sober, but I sure as fuck wish I figured out how to stop drinking a long time ago.

Hey you,

I'm finally strong enough to write about you without getting upset. I wanted to explain to people they don't have to be afraid of what I went and still am going through. I have finally accepted that you have completely and utterly destroyed me. I'm OK with the fact that I had to start fresh, sober this time (for real). I went through hell and back to please you, and all you ever did was hurt me. I can remember crying asking myself, why I couldn’t stop drinking. My self-esteem was an all time low. I thought death would be better than living at times—however; I defeated it on multiple occasions. As most of you know a severe car accident could have been worse-- however, I was lucky enough to see another day even if I didn't think so at the time.

I wanted someone to help me, I really did— but I didn’t or maybe I couldn’t stop. This pattern continued for longer than it should have. I acted out to receive attention, as I drank to a point of no return. Blacking out became a hobby-- one I looked forward to every night, and regretted every morning. "What the fuck did I do last night?" started as something to laugh about with close friends, and ended with me not wanting to hear it, walking away as people told me.

I said I was OK, so the struggle didn’t seem so real. I couldn’t be viewed as weak. I pretended I had everything under control. “Yes, I can have one drink tonight— two tops. Don’t worry about me.” Waking up in a hospital to some random person's bed or on the floor of my communal bathroom floor in college, seemed like a way of life for me at one point. I found the happiness in these shitty situations-- the small light in every bad thing that happened to me-- I laughed it off. Everything wrong in my life for a while was because of you. I did shit I would never have done if it wasn't for you and I can finally admit that-- without hating myself for it. I was completely consumed by a substance that made me act like, well, an addict.

The sad thing is, that I once loved you, in my twisted insanity. I once looked forward to the bag of wine I would devour in my bed after school. I once wished for blackouts so I didn't have to remember the dumb shit I did in my previous blackout. I once was excited to drink by myself so I could have some "me time." You were my first love and now, I can no longer associate with you. I can still hang out near you and my friends, of course, are always welcoming you, but it's not really the same. I've changed since I've been with you, and I can only go up from here.

This is an open letter to alcohol.
You will never get the best of me again.