Poetry: Struggle Daily

Sometimes it's funny how memories can be so sharp.

I can feel the glass, cold in my hand.

I can taste the liquor wash over my tongue.

I can feel the burn as it slides down my throat.

And I struggle daily, as the memories assail me.

Sometimes I wish I could just have one drink. 

One drink to wash away worry and stress and life.

I know that one drink is both never enough and too many.

I am an alcoholic, and I struggle daily. 

I wonder how memories can be so sharp after so long.

It's been eight years since that glass has weighted my hand.

I'm removed from my past behaviour. 

I've changed so much since then, except for the craving.

Sometimes the desire is worse now than it was at the start.

It's hard to remember the black outs, and the vomit.

It's hard to remember detoxing and withdrawal.

It's hard to remember that I can't stop when I start.

It's easy to remember the slow burn, and the taste.

It's easy to remember that buzz.

But I look to my children and try to remember the bad.

I struggle, but prevail one day, one hour, one minute at a time.

© 2013 Carrie Ann Murphy

Alcohol and other substance abuse remains a prevalent issue for the LGBTQ community. I think this is partly due to the cultivation of a subculture labeling LGBTQ people as "partiers" out for only a good time. Substance abuse should not be a harrowing right of passage that we pass along to our LGBTQ youth. We lose too many great lights to this disease. Because make no mistake, it IS a disease, and very very few people can kick this without help.