Friday, October 07, 2005

on poisons

Not to sound too nineteenth century sewing circle, but I have decided that I hate that demon, alcohol.
It has destroyed, or is destroying, or will or may destroy, some of the people I love or have loved best.
It is the most corrosive legal substance I can think of. I am coming to hate the smell and the signs of it--the memory loss, the slurred speech, the stumbling, the easy tears, the terrifying instantly accessible rages, the neglect, the brittleness, the self righteousness, the self pity.

My grandmother drank herself to death. She drank so much the lining of her stomach gave way and she bled internally until she died. My uncle, don't even get me started on my uncle. Or my grandfather, or my great grandfather, on both sides, or my friends, my friends---

I tend to consort with alcoholics.
I don't know why. Genetics? Sometimes I think of the bloodline, going back and back and back (those fucking Irish) with a twin vein of 180 proof splitting through it, stumbling up the spiral staircase of my DNA, saying "drink or love a drunk, bottoms up, baby"

I love wine as much as the next hedonist. I love to get buzzed, sing loudly, talk, flirt, say stupid things that I am ashamed of the next morning.

But the regular sodden drunk, beginning at beer o clock and not ending until one passes out at 4 a.m., the whole house reeking of open bottles (a smell reminiscent, or precogniscent, of vomit) the curtains drawn, cigarette butts all over, and that thick fug of distance--that going to a country or state of consciousness that no one else can reach, the Sovereign State of Anesthesia--I don't go there, and when I watch someone else doing it, I feel terror and rage.

I know someone who has been jailed for driving drunk, jailed for 70 days, and he still does it, more than ever lately. He drinks every last genie in every last bottle and I spose he gets his wishes, I don't know.

I know someone who killed himself because he had started drinking heavily again.

It's all such a cliche. It's all true.


Nose Painter

Bibulous dipsomaniac
Intemperate sot


A person can't compete with an addiction. This is one of the most offensive truths of all. Love can't conquer it. I don't know what, if anything does. But I have to get out of here. It's making me sad and angry and tired and bored and furious and totally nuts.


Anonymous kvc said...

It is worse than any other drug because it is encouraged and acceptable and it effects everyone you come in contact with.

2:31 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home