Quite stunning Al Cohol's ability to drown out your better instinct. The knowledge of its propensity to make one think 'sod it' has been quite sobering in recent times.
Instinct on your right shoulder: "Stop now, you don't need any more."
Al Cohol on your left: "Oh go on, you know you want to!"
I don't drink very often, I drink mostly when I have company. Few of my girlfriends can pack it away like I can. I'm no match for some of my male friends. Must be owing to my size.
I'm abandoning Nico Teen; I can see myself rushing into Al Cohol's embrace as I try to fill the void left behind.
What is it about fear which has it reaching out for everything that's no good for you? Hopelessness is just as bad.
I mention this only because I'm on the waiting list for therapy. I know what my problem is.
I know that I'm not alone, though I'm not suggesting you are like me.
I mention this also because the single mother and the peer story got me thinking. In any sex story, be it consensual, be it rape, reporters will always ask: "Was alcohol involved?"
Judgment sharpening its claws..
I'm not going to stop drinking, I enjoy it.
I must stop bingeing though, the hangovers...not what they were two decades ago.
I'm going to become European about it!
A little everyday instead of alot all in one go every now and then!
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