Design a site like this with
Get started

I have to drink


We convince ourselves we have real choice when really….we never do. Think back. Look in the mirror. You will see that all that talk of choice is just that – talk. We are led by our emotions every time. We are weak. Even I felt weak Out Here – but that was simply because I was not myself. I had been invaded by this alien and it was controlling the mothership. Setting its course. The wine was gone and I had that familiar feeling that it hadn’t worked and it had fooled me once again. That same feeling that powers in straight after sex, before the sweat has dried on your skin. When he is asleep or –  worse  – when he is fixing his trousers without the eye contact you thought meant something only minutes before. It didn’t. You were simply a meal. The alcohol is a continuous one night stand. It promises you the world and leaves you emptied out and smelling of vomit. You would think that someone as clever as me would have worked it out. The drugs don’t work – but in that case why is society pushing us onto them – filling is up – whether that’s at the pub or in the doctors surgeries? We are all relying on some sort of drug – love, tv or a dopamine hit from social media. We are all on endless hamster wheels.

And anyway I have to drink. I have to drink to dumb myself down to everyone else’s level. I have to drink to make the voice that knows better stop, to fit in, to slow down, to stop. I have to drink to not feel because those feelings lead us astray and push us off purpose. Those feelings temporarily stop us killing what we love.  Always this endless pull of curiosity for the alcoholic. I wonder what happens if….? Always ignoring one fact that never changes – our limited capacity to love. Not content with the 1001 drinks on our sweeties shelf at the pub we will attempt to mix in other things to hit that elusive high. But the first high has been placed on the highest shelf – it’s forever out of reach. Something in me wants to stretch for it even if I fall. Once you have been over the edge of that cliff top, you are never scared of falling again. It’s post fall. It’s post life. It’s still breathing, not dead country. 

Extract from ugly girls win by Alice Smith. 361 Sober provides an online LGBT safe space to think about your drinking. For more information or to sign up, visit

Published by 361one

when I write I am a king. Listen to more at 361 live podcast

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: