The glass of burgundy elixir seems oh so tempting, the siren like calls of fire water. They seduce me sweetly in the darkness of night. But I should know better. These demons tempt me so that time passes without me knowing, my actions unaccounted for. I have lost count to how many times I have woken up in a bed that is not mine, a stranger lying next to me. Rituals I must perform everyday to satisfy my cravings for their sweet yet burning sensation, to satisfy my ever longing for the taste of them on my tongue.
Nobody understands me, why I do the things I do. The people whom I call my parents shun me, they claim I am one under a spell. But I know better than to fight these compulsions. The more I do, the sicker I become, like the demon inside me is being exorcised and my mortal body becomes collateral damage. I can never stay committed in a relationship. People either leave me or the same elixir that we both crave claims their lives.
Problems arise at work. Whispers of my so called "habits" echo around the office. Whenever I walk into a room, silence followed by hush whispers among those who think they are better then me. Well, they can take their 'holier-then-thou' attitude and shove it up each other's ass!
The stash I keep under my bed I keep well hidden. No one can know where they are, or they will take it away from me. The effects are leaving me as well. Nightcaps have little effect, I require more to get to the point of euphoria, sips are what ladies in the Victorian era take.
The logical side of me forces me to go for weekly rehab meetings. The bunch of them pathetic bunch sit around and confess their problems to the counselor whom they have mistaken for a priest. That so-called priest is a wolf in sheep's clothing- a wife beater. The 12 steps I have climbed and have fallen off the wagon each time. Not because I am weak, but because the world seems so much more at peace when I am not myself.
After each meeting, I return to my bottle. The mantra we chant each week echos through my thoughts :
"God give me serenity to accept things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."
And I am forced to admit to myself that- I am incomplete without my aqua vitae. I, am an alcoholic.
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