28 days

If that will make you happy, I will stop drinking. And then I would tell myself tonight I will not get wasted. And then something would happen. Or nothing would happen. And I’d get that feeling and you all know what that feeling is; when your skin is screaming and your hands are shaking and your stomach feels like it wants to jump through your throat. And you know that if anyone had a clue how wrong it felt to be sober, they wouldn’t dream of asking you to stay that way. They would say oh geez, I didn’t know. It’s okay for you. Do that mound of cocaine. Have a drink. Have 20 drinks. Whatever you need to do to feel like a normal human being, you do it. And boy I did it. I drank and I snorted. I drank and snorted. I drank and snorted. And I did this day after day, day after day, night after night. I didn’t care about the consequences because I knew they couldn’t be half as bad as not using. And then one night something happened. I woke up. I woke up on a sidewalk and I had no idea where I was. I couldn’t have told you what city I was in. And my head was pounding and I looked down and my shirt is covered in blood. And as I’m lying there wondering what happens next and I heard a voice. And it said man, this is not a way to live. This is a way to die.