I drank, a lot. It’s actually a good thing. I have a very low tolerance for alcohol in all forms and iterations. Hard liquor, beer, mixed drinks, wine spritzers. I drank it all. I went on raging benders that lasted for days. I got into fights, got kicked out of bars, had random sex with strange women. Possibly a man who looked like a woman, but I honestly can’t remember. That was a bad week. But that’s all it took was a week. I hit bottom, saw the light, made my choice to stop drinking. Moved on. Actually, the first morning I woke up puking and hurting from a hangover, I was pretty much done. Like I said, I’m just not much of a drinker. This wasn’t a vow to never drink again so much as it was a realization that making myself sick was not only stupid but going to get boring really fast. And I was always better at quitting things anyway. I tried to move on with my life, what little there was left of it.
