Shear

On the fifth day of the great binge I looked at myself in the mirror.

I had just woken up, late in the afternoon.

Dishevelled face, bags under the eyes, splitting headache,messy hair, aching muscles, a twitching brain and wobbling joints – not mentioning how bloated I felt, the abdominal aches and the fluttering in my chest.

I said to myself, rather helplessly.

“You only feel like this because you are sober.”

So gulped, snorted and smoked, hopelessly and shamefully, with an undoing self-loathing and a deep disillusionment of who I believed myself to be.

‘Why can’t I stop? How can I stop? Will I stop?’ I worried, became too overwhelmed.

So I gulped, snorted and smoked.

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