I still remember the day I realized I’d lost my grip on reality. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, with me as the conductor, driving off the rails. My best friend, Dorothy, would often say, 'Alice, you’re such a crazy b***h.’ But little did she know, I was just getting started. My days were a blur of excessive drinking, cocaine-fueled parties, and self-destruction. I’d often find myself wondering if I was the one who’d lost her mind or if the world around me had finally gone to sh*t.
One of my favorite memories from that time was when I convinced Dorothy to join me in a night of debauchery. We snorted a line of coke, downed a few shots, and then proceeded to get into a heated argument with a group of strangers at a dingy bar. The whole thing ended with us being thrown out, but not before I managed to get my bra caught on a beer bottle and ripped it right off my body. Dorothy just laughed and said, ‘That’s so you, Alice.’ It was moments like those that made me realize I was truly losing my grip on sanity.
As I look back, I can see the signs of my downward spiral. The constant partying, the reckless behavior, the self-destructive tendencies – it was all a cry for help. But back then, I didn’t know how to ask for help. I was too busy trying to keep up with the image of the ‘wild child’ that everyone saw me as. But the truth is, I was scared, and I didn’t know how to stop. It took hitting rock bottom for me to realize that I needed to change. And even now, as I write this, I’m still not sure if I’ve fully recovered from that wild ride.
>Soulkyn