Part 9 of the story of how Gary's life changed. You could call it From Beer to Eternity. There might be 20 or so of these to make up the whole story. Links to other parts are on the right.
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Sometimes I try to quit, without telling anyone. I might make it a couple of hours. But it never lasts and over time I give up. I get to the point where I think this is it, this is the way it's going to be, I'm just going to end up dying years earlier than I should.
I know that, but I ignore it and act like it's not true. I have to ignore it because it's too painful to accept, plus I know can't stop, so I'll go crazy if I think about it.
It's really not hard to ignore, though -- ignoring is one of my strengths. It's part of my whole escapist, pleasure-seeking personality. Since I was a kid I've excelled at avoiding the thing I'm supposed to do: I always put off that night's homework assignment, but spend an hour reading ahead in the same book.
So the same thing that makes drinking so appealing to me -- pleasure, avoid responsibility -- is the same thing that enables me to not face the facts of the consequences. It's like a muscle that the drinking habit has helped develop -- and my pleasure & escape muscle is now a rippling, bulging, Mr. Universe-worthy muscle.
So I'm an alcoholic and year after year goes by. It's a lifestyle. It's normal. It's who I am and what I do. It's actually the main thing I am and do. And it's not going to change.
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