The Cycle Continues Until Death

By the end of my drinking days, I hated drinking.  Hated everything about it.  Even hated the taste of it.  The smell of it began to make my nauseous.  I had to get drunk to even be able to drink.  And I had to drink to feel even remotely alive.  To feel even remotely normal and not sick.  I had to get sick to feel not sick.  I had to slowly kill myself daily to feel alive. 

Thus the cycle continued.  

By the end of my drugging days, I hated using.  Hated everything about it.  Even hated the taste of it.  The look of it began to make my nauseous.  I had to get high to even be able to use.  And I had to use to feel even remotely alive.  To feel even remotely normal and not sick.  I had to get sick to feel not sick.  I had to slowly kill myself daily to feel alive. 

Thus the cycle continued.  

And so they would until death.  

-Thu, 11 Feb 2016