coping mechanisms

alcohol seems to be the only thing that helps anymore. every time it gets hard, i just take a small sip, then a few shots, a couple glasses, then another bottle or two. because vodka was easier to swallow than the fact that you weren't coming back. eventually you’re hooked. because everything around you stops, goes quiet. you forget everything going on around you and just relax. your breath falls away with ease. the burn in my throat with each gulp, the spinning lights, the smoke in my lungs, the hands on my waist. everything blurs. it’s all a distraction. because when you stop to think for too long, it hurts. i’d rather waste the night away and pass out in a bathtub somewhere at 4am, waking up not remembering a thing, than have to sit alone with my thoughts. and this realisation didn’t even phase me. if anything it only encouraged it. it made me think that it seemed to be working, that it helped, things were getting better, i was living and making memories. but i wasn’t, i was simply covering old ones and burying them deep down to the point i’d almost forgotten why i started, why i picked up that first bottle from such a young age. i used to sit alone in my room with shoe boxes full of alcohol under my bed, laying on an astro field staring up at the blinding sun with a bottle in each hand, in the middle of the woods with a can of that shitty fruity alcohol and a joint between my fingertips. someone’s lips on my neck, their hands in my shorts, i told myself it was just a bit of fun. any excuse to find a release. i didn’t care, about anything. i was ready to give up and i wasn’t even scared, i simply did not care. i had nothing left to lose, nothing could hurt me anymore. my own family could tell me straight to my face how much of a mess i was, how disappointed they were, i was wasting my life, letting everyone down, how they needed me to help out. and i would sit there in complete silence, look them directly in the eyes with a straight face, and no remorse. i no longer felt the guilt they tried to force on me, i didn’t care if i failed exams, got kicked out of school, or wasted my life. and no one understood why. but i think, it’s because deep down, i knew i wouldn’t be there much longer for any of it to matter.