I don’t know why I drink. It never ends well. 

“I’ll just have a couple drinks” 

That’s how it always starts out. 

I am somewhat aware that I may be an alcoholic. My father is, 2 of my 4 brothers are. I guess I am too. 

I think it’s going to make me feel better or help me forget my troubles for a little while. Never does, but I keep doing it. 

I cant understand how making my self feel better, even if only briefly, could make me feel worse in the long run. Its seems to be one of life’s cruel practical jokes that I get caught up in time and time again.





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