Alcohol, The Bottomless Pit, And How I Leaped Out
My journal helped me trace the root cause of alcohol dependency.
“Now I’m sober and I realize, I didn’t drink to escape the world, I drank to escape myself.”
— Phil Volatile
Alcohol was where I ran to when I needed to run to nowhere.
Each time I ran to the bottle, I’d find its lengthy arms wide open to embrace and reassure me that I had come to the right place. And for each gulp, there’d be a quick rush of energy through my body that induces an odd kind of strength cum support that would fleetingly expunge some disturbing memories. It was my go-to for a temporary soothing that would last long enough to keep my mind still.
I needed where to anchor my feeble mind on. Pains and emptiness as a result of heartbreak and betrayal were so sudden and so intense that I quickly reached out for something to brace myself with, else I fall deeper into the hollow that resides within me.
After having a skinful, I’d return home inebriated pretending to want to sleep. But the headache would be merciless, and the hangover would be unforgiving. But a similar thing would repeat itself after a day or two.
