Jen's Journal

My head bobs side to side to the rhythm of the music.

The more I drink the less I think about my anxiety.

At some point, I don’t feel anxious at all.

The cool drink slides down my throat again

                                                                     And again

                                                                                     And again.

I don’t smoke cigarettes, but a few puffs keep me from

Getting too drunk too fast.

Because I want to drink myself to sleep,

But I also want to enjoy this night.

I want to remember the feeling the earth spinning.

I want to remember what I cried and laughed about.

I don’t want to say too much, and I will if I keep drinking.

But the music is loud and the night is just beginning.

I switch to water when I can no longer sit up without

Holding on to the counter.

But I forget I can’t chug water and continue drinking.

Panic sets in when the sounds around me blur into murmurs.

I try to speak but my words no longer make sense.

I try to walk but my legs no longer support me.

I wake up hours later.

There’s a glass of water next to my bed.

I’m holding on to an empty trash can.

I go back to sleep again.

A cradle position is the only one that keeps the world from spinning.

Hopefully, I can sleep this off.

If not, I am never drinking this much again.