This is a long one. I’m sorry if I ramble but I need to get this out. I drink a half pint every night and almost always have fast food with it. I am aware that isn’t healthy.

I (27) really don’t know how to start this off except to say that I really dislike myself. I dislike shitty choices I made as a younger man and those choices continue to haunt my mind and they affect my actions almost daily. Even if I shut off my mind to those negative thoughts and feelings, it only goes for so long until I think that I NEED to drink in order to “genuinely forget”.

It’s all a lie brought about by the neural pathways in my head and I’m so tired of drinking every night. I once made it 6 weeks sober, then went alone to a strip club and spent $200 on drinks. Because for whatever reason I thought half naked women and Jack Daniels would make all my trouble go away.

I drink because it makes me feel good. In the moment. But I know I never actually look it. I have eternal resting bitch face (or as one acquaintance once told me, “You look like you hate everything.”) Even drunk I’ve had other drunk people be like, “Oh, you’re not in a good mood.” And then they walk off and talk with others and I’m sitting there thinking, “I guess I’m not in a good mood.”

My mother’s brother died of alcoholism. He was a very functional alcoholic, like what I’ve become. One day he went to the hospital for pneumonia and he just never came out. I only met the man once, when I was very young. He served in Vietnam and I guess he never really left. It’s one of my first formative memories.

I feel so trapped by my own head and I can’t be angry with myself anymore; my anger comes from this deeply pitted sadness because every time I’m angry underneath the rage and loathing there’s this little child that’s crying desperate to be acknowledged and I’m silencing the little bastard by drowning him in alcohol.

I don’t want to die early like my Uncle. I don’t want to have this “Resting Angry Face”. I don’t want to drink tonight. I don’t want to ever drink. It’s a poison that’s slowly leading me down a path where all my potential will be squandered.

The ironic thing is? It’s not liquor that triggers me. It’s my own feelings. I can look at liquor all day and not feel any need to indulge, but if I experience any sort of negative nostalgia my first instinct is to run from the emotion by drowning it. I know I am not alone but it sure does fucking feel like it.

I needed to let this out.

I will not drink with you tonight.