I didn’t know who I was without alcohol,but my doctors told me I would never feel better unless I tried sobrietyIt was a couple years after college, and I had a routine. Work: 80 hours a week. Drink: heavily from Thursday through Sunday evening, or lightly Monday through Wednesday. Exercise: never. Stare at the ceiling: nightly.Such was the great thrill of being young,I decided: brute effort punctuated by literary moments of colorful self-destruction, eating street meat and smoking loosies, or vomiting out cab windows,blacking out on outbound trains and waking up in the pre-dawn ink of the slumbering outer boroughs. I wanted to be seen as a raging dumpster-fire of fierce ambition and spectacular consumption, and for a while, or I judge I was.
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Source: theguardian.com