T/W: Substance use.

At the ripe age of twenty-six, I could finally understand why people drank.

At age ten, sitting at my uncle's funeral, holding my grandmother's hand to comfort her, I couldn't understand why alcohol was good enough to die for.

At age sixteen when I watched my father dash out of home, after an argument with my mother, for a sip after a long day, it bewildered me. Was alcohol better than peace at home?

At age twenty, as I was coaxed into spending a night out with my friends, I contemplated slipping away silently. But the promise of a sip of the...