My first word
Greetings to those who can bear witness to my words. I am but a nameless soul, and today marks the fourth day since I last succumbed to the poison of alcohol. For nearly eight years, I've been ensnared in the merciless grip of addiction, a relentless foe that refuses to release its hold. I find myself utterly weary of these recurring cycles, where each fresh start on day one fades into despair. There was a time, over a decade ago, when I stood tall in sobriety for a glorious span of ten years. But then life took a cruel turn, leading me down a path fraught with heartache and torment. I left behind a broken marriage only to stumble into the arms of a relationship stained with abuse and tragedy. Today, I am but a hollow shell of the person I once was, bearing scars that refuse to heal. The calendar approaches my birthday on the fifth of March, yet the notion of celebration feels hollow and empty. In moments of despair, tears are my only companions, and the whispered plea to not wake...