I never thought it'd be me.

My dad's a recovered alcoholic, but I grew up with him binge drinking and never wanted to be like that. He would drive us home, laughing about swerving in the road, while my 5 year old self begged him to stop. I thought I knew what alcohol would do to me, I thought I knew addiction runs in the family, I thought I knew better. For a while I smoked weed daily, multiple times a day. It was a form of self medication, even though I'm already medicated for, like, 6 mental illnesses. I just feel chronically empty, and it helped fill something. At one point, smoking started causing paranoid delusions for me, so I stopped. Drinking was something I did at parties, but I'd never buy alcohol to keep at home. My last job renewed their alcohol license and we started a new wine program. That involved tasting some really, really nice wines, and I didn't feel like using the provided spit bucket, so I had a fantastic shift that day. Then, my favorite manager started buying me glasses at the end of the shift. Then, I started buying white claws for home. One every few days turned into one a day. That turned into two. Not even 6 months later, that's become multiple 4-8 oz pours of vodka almost every day. Today is a wake up call. I'm miserable at work. I rung someone up for a croissant, and before even grabbing it I had to run to the back to vomit, had something coming out both ends. Im supposed to be in charge here but I'm just leaning against the counter trying not to puke for the third time in 3 hours.

I'm like my dad in a lot of ways, I guess this is one of them.