I understand you. I know you probably have little to no idea who I am, but I know who you are. I know you’re struggling with life right now. I know you probably have a lot of horrible things going on in your life. You probably have problems in your home, something tragic happened to you or you have massive anxiety. Maybe you are struggling with all these situations at once. I am so sorry you have to go through that.

I know you want to forget all of your problems. You think that if you go to that party and drink or get high that you can push the pain and depression away for even just a moment. I know you’re probably thinking about the bottle right now; you’re thinking about how much drowning your sorrows in alcohol calms you down. I know what that desperate search for a cure for all your problems is like. I know you will do anything to push your heartache away, and if that works, I know to keep the pain away you must continue to do whatever works, right?

Every day I watched her drink. I watched her put on a happy face, but in the comfort of her own home, I watched her let herself go. I watched her try to come to me with all her problems. I watched her skin start to sag. I watched her eat less and less because the bottle was all she thought she needed. I watched Satan twist her walk with God. She came to me looking for answers; she came to me with tears in her eyes, trying to make her story known. She came to me every day with the same stories. She still comes to from time to time. She cries at night; she pleads with someone, anyone to hear her cries, but it seems like no one is listening. I watched her abuse every one of her kids emotionally and sometimes physically. I watched her abuse me. I got angry. I asked God if she actually cared about me. I remember when she told me she was dying, and I had no idea what to do. I watched her while she treated other people better than she treated me. I watched myself become numb to emotions and put up walls in order to shield myself from the pain of watching her.

I watched those around me struggle with her. I watched them become bitter with her. I watched them pick up the bottle and struggle just like she does. I watched them question God and stop believing in Him because of her. I watched them suffer the consequences of this abuse.

I watch my friends now talk about medicating themselves with alcohol. I watch them joke about it like alcoholism is something to joke about. I watched them pick up bottle after bottle and act like this is just “no big deal,” but this is a big deal.

I watched people talk about drinking like drinking had no consequences. I asked them why they drink and they told me they drink because their life sucks. They drink because they have family problems. They drink because their dad left them. They drink because they go through too much stress. They drink because they want to forget what their father did to them. They drink because their financial situation is weighing down on them.

I am afraid that these people will end up like her. I am afraid because they usually have no idea what living with an alcoholic is like and they think they have enough self-control to handle the bottle. She thought she did too, and now she has to deal with the consequences of alcoholism.

I understand if you like drinking. I understand drinking in moderation is completely normal and fine. Understand that I have no problems with drinking sometimes. I had alcohol once and I in no way want to condemn or judge anyone for drinking. What I want to say though is that the next time you think about drinking to get rid of the pain of life, realize trying to medicate this pain might actually make the pain worse. Alcohol had no power to heal her, and after years and years of abusing the bottle, she still has depression. Alcohol makes you forget for a moment, but never ultimately gives a person the joy and satisfaction they need. Only Jesus can heal the pain, only Jesus can satisfy the human heart, and only Jesus can stitch together the wounds from a tragic life.

So before you pick up the bottle to heal wounds alcohol can never heal, think of her.