Boose Loose

The lure of booze, the promise of a moments escape from the hustle and bustle of life. The simple pleasure of gulping that shot of vodka or tequila. Or that awesome bittersweet taste of an ice cold beer. Who can resist? A select few, I dare say.

There is a certain charm in holding on to that bottle, sipping that drink. Of getting buzzed enough to allow oneself a myriad of emotions otherwise ignored or suppressed. A time when you can let go and be happy. It's amazing what a bottle or two can do.

But when it becomes a disease, a problem that seeps into our relationships? When you're drunk enough, not to know what you are doing? Drunk enough to hurt the one you profess to love the most? Is that still healthy? When you decide that drinking is more important than your sanity? Is there joy in that?

I cannot say I do not fully understand why people get drunk or that I haven't been a victim to that, but what I don't understand is the selfishness involved in pursuing this course when in consciousness you know how much you are hurting not only yourself but the people around you who not only cares for you, but you care for yourself. When you start to hurt your loved ones, just because your drunk, don't you think that that's the cue to stop and assess everything that's been going on. Admit to oneself that there is a problem and start to work on a cure rather than continue to self destruction?

I write this not because I aim to maim or point a finger, but to try to understand and help. Hopefully in time before everything becomes too late. Before everything else starts to crumble and fall and all that's left is that one bottle of beer in front of you.

Comments

Anonymous said…
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