Dear Alcohol,

It’s time for us to part ways; where I’m going, you can’t come along. By definition,

if I’m headed to a place of recovery (and I am) then I have to leave you behind. You are

the longest romantic relationship of my life. You have spent the last decade writing me

love letters in the calligraphy of control and whispering sweet nothings with a forked

tongue – each statement formed in an alloy of manipulation and malfeasance. You lie

with a willing and toxic thorniness – each word a barb that cuts cruelly, sticking in the

folds of my flesh and sense of self. You whisper plaintive pleas that this time you won’t

hurt me, this time will be different. You make promises we both know you can’t keep,

and you inflict plain and take from me with every vodka-soaked breath I draw. As I

imbibe poison and exhale the noxious gasses, I am slowly leaking hope at your behest.

I thought you were my everything, yet you leave me with nothing – nothing but shame,

regret, and loneliness. I thought you were the bringer of comfort, yet you only bring

chaos. I thought I could confide in you, sharing my pain and problems alike, yet it was

you that caused my pain and problems. You’ve taken jobs, loves, relationships,

privileges, potential and possibilities. I wanted the world and you made me withdraw

from it. You thrive on my weakness, though the more distance I put between us, the

stronger I get. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t need you anymore. While I can’t know if

we’ll ever meet again, I can promise that today I am walking away. Today I am severing

the sinews and scar tissue that have bound us for so long. Today I’m choosing recovery.

I’m choosing life, I’m choosing me. So I’m sending you dry-eyed goodbye, — you’ve

already gotten enough of my tears.

-drm

Dear Inhalants

You came into my life under the guise of utility, on the back of naiveté and

novelty. You were a lullaby, a solution, a suggestion from an unreliable source, sought

out as a salve for sleepless nights. You offered such a simple promise — oblivion. What

I couldn’t have known is how deep into the inky bottomless void I would become

ensnared, in the pursuit of silencing my mind. But you didn’t no such thing, you

screamed. You barbarically howled. You cackled through a gaping torturous maw.

Between passing out and awaking desperate for another fix you shook my world like a

child shakes a snow globe, violently and carelessly, aiming less for the beauty of

dancing flakes, rather for maximum chaos and tumult. I staggered and lurched, my brain

choked from oxygen, common sense, and any semblance of self. I fell, confused. I

collapsed, contemptible. I grew motionless, feelingless, moodless. Yet despite the

unbelievable horror you inflicted upon my body and my mind, I let you back in. In times

of weakness and desperation, I allowed you to add to the list of “Worst Days of My Life”.

You will absolutely continue to do so, as long as I allow you to. I have no doubt you will

kill me, as has clearly been your intention from the start. From the first breath, our first

kiss, you’ve been destroying my greatest gift, my mind. You’ve broken my body too,

burning my skin, drawing blood, and putting my life in danger. But you’ve had your last

chance to ruin me, bodily and mentally. You’ve destroyed my days and nights and for

that I take ownership and responsibility. I invited you in. And then when I saw you for

what you were, I let you back in because I was too weak, too scared, or felt like I didn’t

deserve better. I do. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve an explanation,

and you don’t deserve closure. That was for me. So is what comes next. Finally.