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Is this the end or the beginning? I’ve taken the first step. And I’m so full of fear. The whole purpose of my life has been washed away Down the sink, Along with the contents of various bottles Apart from the one I’m keeping for emergencies. I know I said I’d got rid of them all. But, hell, Rome wasn’t built in a day. My life has to change so much I don’t know how I’m going to cope. It has been part of my life for so long. A couple of cups of coffee and a fag in the morning Just to get me going, And then a swift nip of something clear. I like to go into work feeling sharp. And a little drink of something gives me the edge. My job is stressful I need to relax. So I have the odd couple at lunchtime. But then, so does everyone else. It’s not as if my work will suffer, I know I can handle the contents of the hip flask. Over the course of the day, that’s nothing. But the bastards had it in for me. Seem to think I mismanaged a couple of cases. So now I’m on indefinite sick leave. How is that going to help me? I need to work. I need the buzz. Sitting at home makes me nervous. I’ve come to dread the morning most Sitting here waiting for the postman. I can feel my stomach rise to my throat. And my throat feels gripped by bands of steel. It’s the credit card bill that finally caught me. I should have been more careful. I usually get there first and dispose of the evidence. But she found it on the table after I’d left. I can still remember the sick fear I felt, After she slammed down the phone. I’ve got a problem, it seems – and it’s all mine. The doctor gave me antidepressants. And he told me I’d probably drink again. That’s not what I want to hear. I wanted him to say: take these and you’ll feel better. All your problems will float away. Your wife won’t despise you. And your children won’t fear you. And you really are a jolly good chap. From where I sit there seems little to live for. I can’t hold cigarette or hold pen. I feel as if someone is looking over my shoulder. And the door of the Iron Maiden is slamming shut. I’ve been told to take it one day at a time. But the elastic seconds stretch over the day, Filling each waking moment with fear and regret.
10th January 2001
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