Dear vodka,

I was supposed to write a goodbye letter to alcohol for IOP.. It's supposed to be about when you started drinking, what bad things happened as a result of your drinking, and a goodbye to the substance. I am not sure I wrote exactly what they want. I thankfully have an individual session with the therapist before group. I might run it by him to see if it is appropriate to read in group. I just felt like being honest for once, and the honest answer is that I am not committed to recovery. I am giving it a try, but I obsess daily over getting vodka. But anyway... feedback is welcome. I wrote like 3 versions of this, and I think this is the final one

Dear Vodka, 

I remember how you came into my life. I was struggling to adapt to the stress of grad school. I had been struggling with depression for a decade at least. I tried to fix it with cutting and with bulimia. Those things never worked for long. I found you, and even at the beginning it was not a healthy relationship. I knew I didn't drink normally. I didn’t drink for taste or for fun. I drank to get rid of my feelings.

But you took the pain away. I got that numbness I searched for. I didn't have to feel lonely anymore. You gave me a way to erase all the anxiety and anger and sadness. You drowned out the constant obsessive, destructive thoughts. You kept me alive when I wanted to die. When I left you, all the destructive behaviors came back. I tried sobriety multiple times, but I always sunk back into depression. I always went back to you eventually.

You hurt me in so many ways. Many nights I would black out and wake up with bruises. My body suffered. I couldn’t keep down food. I was so weak that my legs would give out climbing the stairs. My hands would shake. My eyes turned yellow. All I really did was drink and sleep. You hurt my mind. I was forgetful. I became paranoid that everyone could look at me and know I was crazy. I became incapable of controlling my feelings sober. I cried over tiny things. I became incredibly anxious about everything. You made me impulsive. I had never needed stitches until I cut drunk. It became impossible to keep up with my medications, and it didn’t matter because they know longer worked.

I lost everything: my job, my car, my apartment, my independence. I was a drunken, emotional mess who couldn’t handle any part of my life. I no longer spoke to friends. I left grad school. I was terrified to go out in public, to check my mail, to answer my phone. I moved in with my parents, and there were so many arguments. They threatened to kick me out more than once. I tried treatment after treatment. I knew it was hopeless. I tried more than once to kill myself. You kept me alive.

I cannot imagine life with you or without you. If I drink, I will lose any little thing I have left. I know you will kill me eventually. It might be soon or it could be much later. Without you, I am left with the depression and anxiety and the obsessive thoughts. I chose sobriety because others wanted me to. They wanted me to continue to seek treatment that I am not certain will make any difference. I am depressed. I am tired. I don’t see any hope.

For now I will say goodbye to you. I have to give this a try. That way in the end I can at least say that I gave recovery a shot. I at least tried.