Tonight, I find myself drinking.
At first I am proud.
I now only drink on those nights that I do not work during the following days.
But I should not drink at all.
My personality is addictive. And, for me to drink, is to drink every beer I can obtain until exhaustion overtakes me.
I must quit. And I know it. Completely.
But I love these nights.
I love hating myself. I love hating how I abandoned the Army.
I love hating how I failed.
For two nights a week I embrace depression.
But don't blame the alcohol because I drink the alcohol hoping to secure this feeling.
The alcohol is but a method to my madness.
On Sunday, this will all be nothing. I'll clear up and, on Monday, I'll attend work like this weekend never occurred.
But, I know. You know.
Demons.
They exist.
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