But the loss of religion, shame and guilt left me without morals. Quite by chance, I found that I was amoral by choice.
They say if you can’t imagine going to a party on a Friday night without alcohol to socially lubricate your interactions then you have a dependency on alcohol. But if I am to give myself any label at all nowadays, I would say I am a mild alcoholic. But ‘mild alcoholism’ is still alcoholism.
It’s not what I know I’ve done. But what I don’t know I’ve done. Yawning black holes of nothingness taunt me with their awful possibilities.
I knew, even at 21, that my ‘off’ button didn’t function in the same way as other people’s. I lost 4 pairs of shoes out drinking over the course of 2 years.
I’m no longer sorry I didn’t get drunk in Dublin all those years ago. I’m only sorry I didn’t realise earlier that my sorrow, was a waste of time.
And in an instant, late at night, I changed. This person was in pain. Ugly and blank. My features were twisted into a belligerent mask.