Addiction # 4
I L-O-V-E wine!
Wine is beautiful, its hue is so lovely, look at it glinting in the light, red or white, it doesn’t matter, they are lovely. It’s silky in texture, and seductive in flavor. Wine can take me to a place so happy and secure. It can turn me into Wonder Woman. When I drink wine, I think I am capable of doing anything.
There are a few problems with me spending too much time delighting myself in wine though:
1. My wonderful boyfriend whom I love and adore has already told me he will not stay with an alcoholic.
2. My poor liver is already giving my signs it does not appreciate the gifts bestowed upon me by wine. (And no matter how many vitamins I take, C and otherwise, it doesn’t seem to convince my liver that it can be happy filtering all this wine).
3. My mother, whom I love dearly, lives with an alcoholic (my father) and it breaks her heart that I should go down that same road.
4. It sets a bad example for others.
5. I hold beliefs (I do not expect everyone to hold, please find your own way, but please look for a Way) but my beliefs are that God does not want us wasting our lives being drunk.
Other than that, and if it were not for that, I would spend every extra penny buying and drinking wine. I would bath in it and exhale it.
I like to flirt with Vodka occasionally to mix things up; I don’t want wine to get too sure of herself.
Vodka is a whole new monster; Vodka makes you Wonder Woman X 10 (with 10 more bracelets)!!!!
Until the next day that is, then you are picking yourself up off of the bathroom floor, face splattered in vomit, and feeling like you should have died before it ever came to this. Let me tell you, Vodka makes a bad wingman.
So here I am, a bottle of Pinot Noir, not my usual flavor of choice, but I bought it because it was on a good sale.
It’s silky enough in texture, and don’t tell Merlot, but I am enjoying my time with Pinot Noir!
I drank the bottle in a few hours and I have the flu, so that it stuffed my head up so much I couldn’t breathe so that my ears are throbbing. The right one is causing the most pain (party popper).
It was a sharp pain, like a lance, now it’s just more like a fly buzzing around the room, it bothers me, but it’s now in the distance. That is one of the nice benefits to this addiction, when on this peak, things like flues don’t bother you.
So alcohol, God, where do I start……..
My father is an A class alcoholic. AAAAAAA+++++++++++ (He is Super Man after all!)
The man has drank a 5th of Bourbon Supreme for 30 + years, and still maintains his life, health, everything.
I have to live up to that!
I drink nonstop one year, and forget it, I am like a washed up jelly fish drying up in the sun.
I hold my job, but if you could see me, it’s by far one of my worst moments.
If I was to let them make an episode of “Here is your life”, this moment would be blacklisted from the script.
I am feeble, my immune system is at -10 and I look 10 years older than last year.
OK, so here is my dad, and please, despite what I may go on to say about him, he is Super Man. Nothing ever came up that he didn’t ever understand or that he couldn’t fix; that is except himself. He not only held his job, he was the best at it. He not only kept his family, he kept his sisters family, his other sister’s family, and his mom and dad’s family going.
To this day he helps me out, but the man is a suicidal alcoholic, and has been since 1982. My BPD is rooted in a day he told me he needed to drink beer because he was sick of drinking soda. It’s rooted in a year later when he left me alone day after day to smoke weed and badger my mother. They left me totally alone for moths at the age of 12 years old. They abandoned me to put it plainly.
I swear I didn’t see them until meal times, and then it was only my mother.
My mother would sulk out of the bedroom and fix me something to eat. More like a robot mom than a living, breathing mom. There were no signs of life behind those downcast eyes, no words from those turned down lips.
I can’t remember him at the time, he was behind a door, out of his mind on grass or alcohol, and demanding the world from the woman who just offered me mashed potatoes. I didn’t understand. All I came to understand is that if they were so preoccupied about what they were doing, and had not thought about what I was doing, they wouldn’t know I was sneaking out of the house at 10PM to hang out with friends they wouldn’t have liked for me to hang out with.
So, here is how the call card comes to you. The Oblivion Community has your name, and they come calling. They know you, and they see you there alone as a child, they know someday you will need their services. It’s not your time yet, not as an abandoned, confused child; but someday it will be. Then when it is your time, when your sadness, bitterness, hatred, and shame have ripened, then they come calling on YOU. It was HIS turn, it was HER turn, but now it’s YOUR turn. Your number is finally called to ride the ride of the Numb Insanity Suicide Fun Ride. WEE……, isn’t it so much fun?!!!!!
Guess what, we can make the pain go away in just an hour or two. It’s a nice trick, except that it costs everything you have, and it only last until the next day, because you will sober up from that high, and when you do, you’ll feel like shit, so you’re going to need another dose!
I have tried drugs, I have tried sex (this one is addiction # 2) and I have tried cutting. I have tried many of them. And for meeting their acquaintance, I will never be the same; but alcohol was my big taboo. It seems I had to dance with her just once before the curtains fell.
She was all I blamed my misery on when I was a child, and yet, I find myself drawn to her bosom beyond everything; even all I love. It is very frightening!
It reminds me of something from a movie, Batman I think “Did you ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?” Did you? ??? Well I did, and it looked like a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in velvet.
Anymore, I start out my day with a Sweet Chardonnay, that is even before work, and I end it with a silky red wine of choice. It’s all the same these days, but I wonder if I will get it together, I have to get it together for the people counting on me, and for me!!!!
There is a little voice inside of me screaming every time I give in, every time I drown it in the liquor. It is screaming that now I am the one letting me down.
What about me? Hasn’t the child that suffered such abandonment, neglect, abuse and hostility suffered enough at the hands of alcohol addiction? Hasn’t the payment been more than enough? If alcohol were a person, to me she would be the end of the world; the big bomb, the red button that kills everything. Yet, it bewilders me that I might give up everything to her just because it’s so damn easy, and turning back seems too hard.
It is more than the water to fill an ocean, more than the sky to fill with rain that I could express in tears what pain such a substance has caused me.
And yet ……….
Alcohol, you are so enjoyable to me, you stole my childhood, but you are so sweeeeeeeeeeeet……….and you make me forget………….but…. will I let you take everything from me before the end?
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