i've recently readopted
an unhealthy vice
to survive the
many moments
i'm left with
just myself
for company.

alcohol is an
excellent accomplice
when i seek to
drown myself out.

as long as i
don't consider the
amount of alcohol
it takes to
block out
the voice in my own mind,
i'm free to enjoy the side-effects.

steady sleep
with pleasant dreams,
which even my
pharmaceutical cocktail of
prescription drugs
can fail to ensure...
dry narration
that never fails to
make me laugh...
a lighter sense of self
who feels capable of
adjusting to whatever is
thrown their way...
alcohol drowns the
rest of the world out,
allowing me to simply
enjoy these precious
privileges.

my liver is fucked anyway.
i've been on my -
lovingly named -
pharmaceutical cocktail
since i was 14.

i hadn't even had
my first period
before i was prescribed
the first
neurochemical-altering
drugs
that ultimately
saved my life.

9 years later,
with 9 prescriptions
currently active,
i'm faced every day
with the reality
that it takes a
pharmacy
to keep me in
the realm of the living.

i'm only 23.

i wake up every morning
wishing for it to be a 'pm time,'
so i can convince
myself
that it's an appropriate
time to drink.

i've become
very stealthy
with hiding my drinking
from my family members.
waterbottles,
clear spirits that
disappear in juice,
learning the
unspoken timings and schedules
of others
so i can sneak
to the liquor cabinet
while others are
otherwise occupied.

my family don't
notice.
they're glad to
see me emerge from
my room
to be social.
who cares if
doing so required
a bit of
liquid courage?

at least i
don't have to
wrestle with feelings
of guilt -
my new friend
drowns them out,
too.

i can finally stand
to be left alone with myself,
when most of me
is being
drowned out.

i've been lying
to my doctor.
well...
not 'lying' -
i respect her
too much for that -
i've been avoiding
bringing up my
concerns
about the drinking.
my mother keeps
lecturing me
about the fact
that my doctor
is not my therapist.
it's not fair of me
to treat her like one.
but i've been
avoiding
starting therapy again
for months.
i feel like
my return
would be tarnished
by the obvious
guilty tail between
my legs.

i hate that
my thoughts think
this.
i value therapy,
and am ashamed
of the shame
it develops in me
when i think of
going back.

i think the
real reason
i don't want to go back,
is because i know
i'll be encouraged
to stop drinking.
and i'm not sure
i'm ready to let this
fragile positive
relationship
i have with myself
go.

i don't want to
return to the
self-hatred,
self-doubt,
and constant
infuriating
reflection
that usually
defines my time
with myself.

i enjoy
drowning myself out.
it's a precious thing
i cling to
when the shitty
parts of life
are kicking my head in.

i'm not yet ready
to let that go.
© O.M.A

#writco #writcoapp #poem #poetrycommunity #mentalhealth #depression #addiction #reflection #musings #heartbroken