I’ve known for a while but I don’t think it’d had fully set in until this morning. I’m an alcoholic. I woke up and was sick, shaking and sweating. It wasn’t terrible, I just felt ill. The only thing that was on my mind was how to get another drink. I took the last few quid I had out of my pocket and walked down to the shop to buy some Stella, came home and drank it. After the first can I felt good again. Like nothing was wrong.
The reality is that I’ve now become addicted to something. I don’t really feel that bad about it, in a way I get a strange kick out of it. The last few months I’ve been drinking every night, the loneliness has been killing me. The paranoia is killing me too. I’m scared to go out unless I have something in me.
I feel as though my friends have abandoned me and I don’t know any way to express how I feel. I have all these feeling bottled up inside me but I don’t know how to make them go away. Well I do, but not in a healthy way. I always thought my friends would be around forever. I thought we would go travelling together, I thought we’d spend all our weekends together. Now I only get a phone call if they want something. That hurts me.
I remember those days where we would sit around in my room smoking weed and drinking beer. Laughing and joking. Taking the piss out of each other. Those were the days that I thought would never end. Now I sit here every night on my own and drink and wash everything away. I feel worthless, everyone that I trust takes it and throws it right back at me and then laughs at me. Am I really that bad a person?
Now I am finding solace on the internet. Talking in chat rooms to people I don’t know. I know it isn’t real but for me it’s company. Company is something I don’t have. I’ve let myself go. My confidence is gone completely. When I look in the mirror I see an ugly person. One that no one would want to be friends with, one that no one would want to have a relationship with. The drink takes me away from that.
It was different before. Before I could take it or leave it. I liked it and I would do as much of it as I could at the time but the next day I would walk away. I didn’t think anyone hated me, I had hopes and aspirations that I believed could still be fulfilled. Now all my hope is gone, the next day is going to be no different to the next.
Last week I went to buy a new shirt. I walked past the shop 5 times because I was too scared to go inside. I didn’t want anyone to talk to me. I didn’t want them to think I was some kind of idioit. What if they asked me questions? They’ll probably think I am coming in here to steal something. I see the pretty girls standing around in the shop and fear overtakes me. I can’t go in there. I’ll come back next week.
I remember when I used to drink for fun, used to smoke weed for fun. Now there isn’t any fun in it all. It just takes away the feeling of being lonely. I don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to think about me throwing away my chances of university, I don’t have to think about not having any friends left that I trust. I don’t have to think about letting my mum down. I don’t have to think about my dad having disappeared.
The realisation isn’t one that brings me sadness though. It’s one that brings me a bizarre comfort. I know that I have something that I can use to hide away. I have something that is going take away all my feelings. I have something which means I won’t have to face the world. With the drink I don’t have all those fears. I can go to a shop and buy a shirt and not be scared.
So there it is, I have an addiction. I always thought it would be quite cool to have one.
A part from my book that I have decided not to use in the final draft.