You Drink Too Much

The soft glow of the iPad illuminated my face, casting shadows on the dimly lit room. I leaned back into the plush sofa, my legs outstretched, and my eyes flicking back and forth as I scrolled through my latest project. It was a typical evening, the quiet interrupted only by the faint sound of my family going about their routines in other parts of the house. In my hand, I clutched another ice-cold beer, the condensation dripping onto my fingers as I brought it to my lips. The frothy bubbles tickled my throat, and the familiar warmth spread through my body. By the third beer, that nagging feeling of loss and pain that haunted me daily began to subside, replaced by a temporary comfort that made the memories of the three major deaths I had experienced over the past six years a little less painful. The alcohol had become more than just a social activity; it had morphed into a crutch, something I relied upon to get through each day. I continued to scroll on my iPad, immersed in the project that I was convinced would catapult me to the stardom I so desperately craved. In my inebriated state, I truly believed that the alcohol fueled my creativity and drive, that it was the secret ingredient that would push me to the finish line. But as I tapped away at the screen, another beer always within arm’s reach, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling deep inside. The beer cans piling up in my recycling bin were a testament to the constant presence of alcohol in my life, and I knew it was affecting my marriage and family. The concern in Brenna’s eyes each time she glanced at the growing mountain of empties, the fleeting moments of connection with my daughter Alenna – they all weighed heavily on my heart. I convinced myself that it would all be worth it in the end. The sleepless nights, the distance growing between me and my loved ones, the perpetual haze that clouded my thoughts – they would all disappear once I achieved my dreams. The fame, the fortune, the recognition; it would all make up for the sacrifices I was making now. I just had to weather the storm and keep pushing forward, the alcohol as my constant companion. The alcohol whispered in my ear, assuring me that the finish line was within reach, that it was helping guide me to the final destination of my blossoming career. But deep down, somewhere beneath the haze of alcohol, a small voice whispered the truth. It was losing myself, more each day.

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