Intoxicated

"Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress; let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more."

     ~ Proverbs 31:6-7

Project: Live

   So this is why the depressed get drunk. You drown yourself in alcohol 'til you get numbed to the bones. It does make you forget; it does bring a temporary high. The intoxication itself is a band-aid cure to the excruciating pain inflicted by the deep cuts of the heart.

   Two and a half bottles of beer shut me down for the first time. Only two and a half, then the world went spinning non stop. Tears, confessions, melancholic words and regurgitations messed the restaurant table up. I blanked out. The ones written above were exactly what I felt... but more lost. More depressed. More hell. More dead.

   Last night was the worst hell I've been. I literally felt death - of heart, of soul, of near physical death. But with angels to the rescue like mama and papa, I was saved. Mama bathed me, papa slept beside me. And if I walk through tormenting fires of hell again, I know in their loving and forgiving arms I will always find solace.

   I woke up next morning trying to remember everything that happened last night, but all I saw was a bruise on my left arm and felt a slight pain on my upper left forehead. All I can remember was the vagueness of the excruciating pain from that devastating news literally stabbing all of me. If only the stabbing was real, I could have died in an instant. Better, than slow death.

   I swear never to die again through alcohol, as this, I realize, will never be a cure. And mask my face when I return to that restaurant, in case.