Proof is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
It's almost 2 AM and I just came back from my latest hospital stay. I think this one only lasted three days. Or maybe it was four. It's kind of a blur. I remember or I wish I could remember the number of times I've visited the hospital for this same thing. I know I've done it in at least four different cities now in three different provinces. I'm laying here thinking about how I'm gonna pay my rent in four days after blowing all my money on this last bender, if I still have a job (probably not) and about the latest girl I've lost. It's always the same things. The usual cycle of insanity. It repeats itself over and over. Like I'm stuck in an endless loop. My own version of hell on earth. It just doesn't stop. The demon has struck again.
I wasn't always like this. I started out like a normal drinker like everyone else and didn't even start before I turned 18. I used to be able to have one or two drinks and be perfectly fine. And that happened seldomly. Maybe a beer here or there after work. A random house party where I'd still only have one or two. But somewhere along the way I lost control. I can actually pin point the exact summer and age it started. I remember being stressed out cause my girlfriend at the time had gone home for the summer, and the sous chef at my new job was being a real a-hole to me. I was so stressed from all this that I started drinking every day before work. I'd even go on my lunch break and drink. The worst moment I remember when it all fell apart was when a buddy and I stole a bottle of booze from work and went to a friend's place. We drank hard that night and I ended up spewing all over his bathroom. Next thing I know I'm just sitting on the floor in front of the kitchen sink rocking. My buddy decided to drive us to his house and wanted me to stay over. I was having none of that so I proceeded to drive myself home while spewing out my car window. Thank God I didn't kill myself or anybody else. Every day after that I just continued to drink. From then till now its been close to 12 years. 12 years of blowing my rent money, losing jobs, being homeless, getting a couple charges, going to prison, visiting hospitals, being put in the psych ward, staying in drunk tanks and breaking hearts. It's a wonder I'm still even alive. If I stopped and actually calculated how much money I've spent (or other people's money) on booze I bet you I could buy a small house. Isn't that disgusting to think about? I've drank a small house made of booze after all these years. Not to mention the cost of the hospital stays, police and ambulance rides. It's really a sickening thought when you think about it. Just absolute waste. And for what? To have a little fun? Enjoy myself a bit? Hide from my problems? It's not even fun anymore!
And yes I've tried every which way under the sun to stop. AA, counseling, groups, programs, rehabs, medication, meditation and spirituality. I have had friends and loved ones cry because of the pain I cause. I've lost countless acquaintances. Things you think that would learn me a thing or two. But I forever fail and The Demon comes back. Why don't you just stop they say? Anyone who has ever had an addiction knows it's not that easy. And I wish others could understand it. Walk a mile in my shoes and you'll see. The bottle is evil. You can't just put it down. The curse of it even worse.
So I bet you're thinking the Demon I've been talking about is booze or even addiction itself? Truth be told the Demon is something much much worse. It's something I have to see every morning in the mirror. Something I have to live with daily. He's me. Yes that's right, I'm the demon. Im the one who has all the knowledge from all the programs I've ever taken. The one who has loved ones there to help him. I'm the one who has experienced all the shakes, sweats and delirium tremors from the withdrawals. I'm the one who still goes out again three months later to the store, blows all my money, and buys that poison. I freely pour it down my throat knowing the end result. Which job am I losing this time? Where will I live next month? Who's heart am I breaking now? I'm the one who causes it all. I... am... the Demon.