My past has been plagued with alcohol-related issues and I vowed to either completely quit or severely limit my consumption, as I was aware of the negative consequences that arose when I drank too much. Unfortunately, I failed to uphold my promise. It's not surprising, really.
Now, I find myself alone. To make matters worse, I believe I've been in a manic episode for some time now, which only adds to my anxiety. The inevitable crash at the end of this high is looming, and I'm terrified of how hard it will hit me.
Why couldn't I have stopped when I had the chance? Why didn't I keep my word and give up drinking altogether? I've quit before, only to start up again. My behavior has hurt both myself and others, yet they still show me love. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find any love for myself.
It's baffling to me that people consider me one of the kindest individuals they've ever met, despite my numerous screw-ups. Sometimes, I wonder if they're only imagining a nicer version of myself.
I can't reverse time, and it's possible that only time can heal these wounds. However, it's difficult to move forward when everyone else remembers my mistakes so vividly, while I can't even recall where things went wrong.
