I HATE ALCOHOL

I hate alcohol.  I hate how it is an enticement for all races, genders, and ages of people.  Many start quite innocently thinking that “everyone does it”, “it can’t be that bad”, and “it’s only alcohol”.  I hate how it breaks up families, takes people to places they would never go without its influence, and takes them to lows of evilness and degradation that no human being should know.

I hate the very deceptive nature of alcohol.  I hate how it knows no boundaries nor does it honor any status.  I hate how young people think that it’s a “safe” play thing that is fun and certainly offers no harm.  They play with it like their toys of yesterday.  I hate that binge drinking is now the “in” thing that is popular among high school and college students.  I hate how alcohol takes lives quickly with alcohol poisoning, accidents, and especially how it kills the very soul of the people who are held in its vice of control.

I hate that we are a nation who can’t have sports events without alcohol.  Youth events must offer alcohol or parents and spectators won’t attend.  Heaven forbid if alcohol isn’t allowed!  People will sneak it into events because it is accepted and we can’t live two hours without it.  Cities offer block parties and other events that are only centered on alcohol as an enticement for good family fun. I hate how we dress it up at events and parties by dispensing it from fountains, kegs, and so innocently in gelatin shots.   I hate that we measure how much fun an event was by the amount of alcohol that was served.  I hate alcohol.

I hate how alcohol destroys families.  I hate how fathers don’t take care of their children. They don’t pay the bills and selfishly put alcohol before everything that is important. I hate how mothers must hide their alcohol use and neglect becomes evident before the root cause.  I hate how it replaces love with hate. Parents are at the end of their rope because one or both have let alcohol enter the sacred bounds of marriage.  Then they have no hope in salvaging a marriage that would remain perfectly intact unless alcohol entered the holy bounds of marriage like the adulterous mistress.  I hate how alcohol descends on a marriage like the deceitful mistress who slipped in silently, flirtatiously, and subtly.  Alcohol steals time away from the family, robs the relationship of intimacy, and leads to divorce court or funeral homes all in the name of “good times,” “I deserved this,” or “I’ve had a hard day.”  Alcohol becomes a god, a god of control, and a god of self-destruction.  I hate alcohol.

I hate that people can’t see alcohol for what it is.  I hate that even when children see their parents being destroyed by alcohol they still justify their future of drinking by saying “It wouldn’t hurt to have one or two drinks.”  I hate that even though they see what alcohol has done to their parents, they remain at risk to repeat those behaviors just because of the environment they were raised in.  I hate that it can be generational and gives no hint when it might show up generations later after laying dormant for years.  I hate how boys are raised without father figures and have no role model for their future. Little girls grow up with a hole in their heart for a daddy that was missing emotionally and physically.  I hate alcohol.

I hate how people who have made a magnificent recovery from drugs turn to alcohol because “it’s not a drug.”  They think they can drink it because it won’t affect them like their drug of choice did in the past.    They justify going to bars because they “don’t have to drink” and they need to “unwind” or that they have” no place to have fun” or perhaps the biggest lie of all, “I can have just one.”  They dabble with a drink here and there.  Then when they least expect it, they are under the influence of alcohol and their drug of choice shows up maybe by coincidence or maybe by an evil plan.  There it is.  Their addiction staring them in their face just when their guard is down; just when they thought they had it licked; just when they were sure they were having fun and things were good.  Some may be strong enough to pass up their drug of choice but alcohol takes the place of the old drug.  Either way, they are on the path of destruction and  history begins to repeat itself.  The alcohol and drug takes on personality of its own.  It has gained victory in a life that was changed but now has slipped back to the abyss of darkness, destruction, and death.  I hate alcohol.

I hate how alcohol births denial and justification.  Alcohol produces denial which out-shadows reality and honesty.  Denial left to its own devices thickens, toughens, and grows in such strength that even the strongest of the strong are no match for its power.  I hate how denial wickedly deceives people in believing that they haven’t had that much to drink and driving won’t be a problem.  It’s sad that alcohol and denial work hand-in-hand to make widows, widowers and parents  with dead children.  Even now, denial will be telling many of the readers of this essay that these words certainly don’t pertain to them.  It is written for the weak and the unsuspecting but not for them.  I hate alcohol.