If alcohol makes me fun, why are all my friends distancing themselves?

Alcohol you are fun, you transform me into a new person. You remove all the barriers allowing me to be playful, interesting, funny and confident. You make me the ultimate party girl. So why are all my friends distancing themselves from me?

The anticipation gives me butterflies, tonight has been on a the cards for a while. The thought of seeing my friends is exciting and I wonder what stories and secrets will be told. We use to catch up every week but lately it’s got harder and before you know it 6 months has passed without seeing each other. Tonight will be a treat, it will be special and we will create memories.

The night starts with cracking open a bottle of champagne. That crispy fizzy taste swells around my mouth. I feel the warmth creeping up my body and the adrenaline is kicking in. The alcohol is rapidly filling every part of me and it feels good. The first glass goes down fast, so fast that I haven’t even allowed for someone else to pour before I’m filling my glass again. It’s not long before I’ve already drunk a bottle to myself.

The low lighting and upbeat music gives the restaurant an urban sophisticated ambience. We have been here for about twenty minutes and the conversation is flowing. I hear my voice getting louder and my movements getting more disruptive . I know I’m being obnoxious but my confidence is increasing. There is a break in conversation and I realise my friend is grabbing my attention. I try hard to engage with her but I’m hardly listening , I’m quickly distracted by a joke from the other side of the table. I abruptly leave my seat and walk over.

We head to the bar, I’m starting to feel sloppy and tired. I need something harder to straighten me up. In 5 minutes I’ve left my friends to pick up cocaine on the other side of town. I haven’t even acknowledged the thought that I’m taking out the rent money to pay for this. With my co-ordination decreasing and my concept of time lapsing, two hours have past and I’m only just getting back to the bar.

Well I’m here and all my friends have left, though I don’t care because I’m high on the dance floor. Four am arrives and all I have left is a bag of coke and a bunch of randoms. All of my inhibitions have gone and I invite absolute strangers back to my house, my home which is meant to be my sanctuary. Though now this does not exist and I have turned it into a drug den that you would see in the movies. Bottles everywhere, rubbish sprawled on the floor, plates with little plastic bags on the coffee table. Ten am creeps up and I feel disgusted, guilty and I know I need to get these fuck wits out of my house.