The Bottle

He never meant to become addicted, I mean who would ever want to become addicted? Who would want to live their life dependent on alcohol or any other substance? The answer is "no one."

He hates his addiction. He hates his dependency on the bottle to get him through the day.

He hates the blackouts. The lies. The drunken rages. The excessive spending. The empty bottles and cans that litter his floor.

He hates it all but he can't stop.

The bottle rules his life.

The bottle has control.

He has lost control and he hates it.

He hates everything.

He wants help but he can't ask for help.

He wants to tell people about his struggles but he can't.

He can't let anyone know because he doesn't want them to be ashamed of him.

He's already ashamed of himself.

He believes no one will understand. He believes they will think he is weak.

He knows there are people who have had a worse life than himself but that doesn't make it any easier. That doesn't make the pain go away.

He had amazing parents and a grandma that loved him and raised him right.

His parents would think so poorly of him, they would tell him he's a loser, that he has no reason to be the way he is. He was their angel child, the good one, the one they always bragged on.

Now he's an alcoholic.

A lowlife.

No one knows the darkness inside of him though. No one knows the struggles he faces each day. No one realizes how the torment he faced in school affected him. No one realizes how his grandma's death affected him. No one realizes how his wife's death affected him.

His dependency on alcohol was an accident. He never really cared about drinking. Hell, he didn't even start drinking until his mid-twenties.

It started innocently.

It started to dull the pain just a little.

He was hurt so badly from his wife's death. She was the first person to really show interest in him. She was his first girlfriend. His first everything.

Her death came out of nowhere. One day she was there, the next day she was gone.

Her death hit hard. She was young, only 24. No one expects someone so young to have their life ripped away.

He was heartbroken but he tried to keep it together. He didn't cry. He wanted to stay strong for everyone else. Inside, however, everything was falling apart.

He had no friends to talk to, he was always the outcast, was always picked on, no one wanted to be his friend. He couldn't talk to his family, they were grieving themselves and his grandma was gone, so he couldn't turn to her.

He kept everything inside.

It built up.

It started eating him alive.

He reflected on his life, all the torment he faced when in school. The lack of friends. The death of his grandma. Now the death of his wife.

He turned to the bottle one night, just to help the pain go away.

He wanted a painless night. A good night's rest.

It worked. It took the pain away. He was finally at peace.

That one decision turned his life into a nightmare.

He turned to the bottle night after night to keep the pain away. He drank more and more because one shot was no longer enough.

Two shots were no longer enough.

One bottle was no longer enough.

There were nights he couldn't remember. Bruises he couldn't explain. Texts that made no sense. Drive homes that he didn't remember taking.

His life was crumbling around him.

He was falling behind on bills because he never remembered to pay them. He lost his job because he failed to show up so often.

The bottle had taken over.

The bottle was his savior.

The bottle was all that mattered.

The pain from losing the people that mattered the most to him was gone.

The bottle worked like a proton pack for his pain.

The pain of loss was gone.

The pain of the torment was gone.

But then came new pain.

The pain of hurting his family.

The pain of losing his control.

The alcohol, the bottle was winning. He couldn't control his cravings. He couldn't stop turning to the bottle.

No one would understand.

No one would have his back. They would shame him like they did all the other addicts.

They'd never know how much he hates himself for his addiction.

They'd want him to quit.

He wants to quit.

But the bottle is in control.

The bottle says "no, don't stop."

The bottle is his pain reliever.

The bottle is his lifeline.

The bottle is winning.

The bottle matters.

The bottle is all that matters.

The bottle won't let him stop.

The bottle is now his love.

The bottle is there to see his last breath.

The bottle wins in the end

The bottle is the end.