I'm drowning in my own tears, suffocating under the weight of my own shadows. The darkness that haunts me is never-ending, a never-satiated beast that feeds on my fear and my pain.
I've lost count of the days, the weeks, the months. Time has become a blur, a never-ending cycle of loneliness and desperation. I'm trapped in this prison of my own making, with no escape in sight. The only comfort I find is in the bottom of a bottle, the numbing sensation that temporarily silences the screams in my head.
Drinking has become my escape, my salvation, my damnation. I'm not sure which one it is anymore. All I know is that it makes me forget, if only for a little while. Forget the pain, the shame, the guilt. Forget the feeling of being utterly alone in this world.
I wake up every morning, my head pounding, my mouth dry, my eyes gritty. I stumble out of bed, stagger to the kitchen, and pour myself a drink. It's the only way I can face the day, the only way I can silence the demons that haunt me.
I've tried to stop, I really have. I've tried to distract myself with TV, with books, with meaningless conversations with strangers. But nothing works. Nothing can fill the void that's eating away at me, nothing can quiet the voices in my head.
So I drink. I drink until I can't feel anymore, until I can't think anymore. I drink until I'm numb, until I'm nothing.
People say I'm strong, that I'm a survivor. But they don't know the truth. They don't know that I'm barely holding on, that I'm seconds away from falling apart at any given moment. They don't know that I'm dying inside, that I'm suffocating under the weight of my own trauma.
I'm a shell of a person, a hollow shell of what I used to be. I'm a ghost of my former self, haunting the streets of my own life. I'm a shadow of a human being, a mere specter of what I once was.
Drinking is my only solace, my only comfort. It's the only thing that makes me feel alive, even if it's a fleeting feeling. It's the only thing that makes me forget, even if it's just for a little while.
But the hangover always comes, the crushing reality that I'm still here, that I'm still trapped in this hellhole of my own making. The hangover always brings me back to reality, back to the pain, back to the shame.
I know I need to stop, I know I need to find a way out of this darkness. But I don't know how. I don't know where to start. I don't know how to silence the voices in my head, how to quiet the screams of my own shame.
All I know is that I need to keep drinking, I need to keep numbing the pain. I need to keep forgetting, even if it's just for a little while. I need to keep escaping, even if it's just for a moment.
Because in the end, that's all that matters. In the end, that's all I have.