You are no fun, alcohol. You have to know it.
By: Paul Cymutta
Tags: Sobriety, Alcoholism, Self Love, Mental Health, Addiction

Dear alcohol,

Everything had started pretty well with you darling. I met you in my early 20’s, when I started university and really discovered what it meant to have a social life. I had never met you before 2010, except in my father’s arms and some uncles’ during Christmas dinners or birthday parties. But I will always remember that love at first sip.

It was a totally normal introduction, I guess. As many others, I had a taste of you at my first student party in Belgium. As if you already knew me, you made me feel the savor of a beer for my first sample of you. That taste would later on become my favorite side of your many faces.

Our first date didn’t last long. After two drinks, you already abandon me, in another state of mind. I was quite drowsy but happy at the same time. Dizzy but laughing. But above all, you had that magic power to make my biggest issue at the time vanish, my anxiety.

And I fell in love with you, instantly. That was our first night together, but I knew in the bottom of my heart that it wouldn’t be the last.

I thought you were the key to everything in my life, the solution to burying my problems in the depth. My mum had just met a new guy that I hated, my father was falling more and more into alcoholism, I discovered student life and parties that come with, and I was the shyest and most uncomfortable guy at school.

That was the perfect combo for you to take advantage of my weaknesses. Your burning taste running through my esophagus made me feel better every single time. You made me forget all my problems, even if it was only for a few minutes or at the best, for hours.

Passion can only last for so long

Because you made me feel good, like in another world where trouble and toughness don’t exist anymore, our story quickly turned into passion. An intense, powerful, destructive passion.

EVERY SINGLE TIME, I was the drunkest guy when you were in the room. I never missed an occasion to follow you and taste you, no matter where you were. I began to even meet you in the morning or way too late, at night, whether I needed you or not, as if drawn to you like a magnet, to make you become the top priority in my life.

Our relationship was getting worse and worse. You were getting the best of me. You were controlling me. More and more, every day. But I didn’t feel it coming before a very long time. You were sneaky.

Oh, you didn’t make me fail my studies, no. I even succeeded greatly. I often tried to avoid you, but you came back every time. Without surprises, you took my father away. Forever.

As the others might tell you, “he asked for it”, having an even more passionate relationship with you, made of violence, self-destruction and without any limits.

Your power over me was only growing as if you had to find another person to feed. You made me feel useless, lacking any form of bravery, courage and ambition. You nurtured my anxiety with your substance, as if you wanted to expand it till it blew up.

I have to say stop

After too many years in that mental state, I came to a realization that I couldn’t control myself. I never had enough of you. I always wanted more Because you, or I thought, brought me happiness. Therefore, the only possible solution was to quit cold turkey and break up with you. I tried to be around you in moderation. But I did realize that when I wanted you, it was never halfway. It was fully. Till the end. To be drunk on it. And as long as physically possible.

I now can stop picturing that I’m a superstar, a mad man drinking bourbon with such elegance or Charles Baudelaire burying his self-destruction with booze and drugs. I was a mess, because you made me face my failures, weaknesses and wounds, past and present.

I have to be honest. I have never been drunk on a daily basis. Only because I have a wife and because she doesn’t drink at all. Not a single drop. But everything was an occasion to drink more and more (even more THIS year).

* Going to a bar

* Seeing friends or family

* A good movie, show, a new video games to try or a football game is on tv tonight

* Having a shitty day

* It’s cold outside, I need a strong beer

* Perfect sunny weather (which is uncommon in Belgium and deserves to be celebrated)

* Getting into an argument with someone

* Being sad

* Being anxious

* Being happy

* Being at lost with what to do with my life

* …

You are no fun, alcohol. You have to know it. You forced me to face my biggest demons. And I can hear you every day telling me “Come on, drink me, I taste so good. You’ll feel so much better after that first sip”.

But you made me sick like hell several times this year and throughout my life. You even sent me to the hospital in January this year. My body, my mind and especially my liver have started to fail me and I can hear their cry for help. Clear and loud. I hear them well because I decided to kick you out of my life. I hope forever but… who knows.

I crave you. You already miss me. Holidays are finally here, and I’m scared. All that I know is that I haven’t consumed you for 42 days straight. The benefits from that cleanse surpass the hardships you made me go through. Even though I still dream about you at night, I know how harmful you are to me, for my physical well-being and my mental health.

So, farewell, alcohol.