i might've told my story on my original account, but if y'all want what i believe to be an interesting anecdote about how alcoholism affects a person, please gather round for the story of the first time i tasted alcohol

both my parents were alcoholics. their parents, all my aunts and uncles. basically, if someone is related to me by blood, they are drunks (or, in recovery).

i remember growing up, (talking like, single digit age), i had an idea what alcohol was, it was always around, whatever

i never felt compelled to try it, they never let me drink it as a child, i didn't have any of those "when daddy drinks this he gets mean" sort of associations. it was just what adults drank and i did not because i was a kid. whatever, gimme a sunny D.

but one day in 5th grade, my capri sun tasted... funny. like spoiled? it wasn't good. i took it to the recess monitor who themselves took a sip, then saw in the bag there was a puncture. there was even some chunky stuff in there?

i did not know at the time that it had fermented

i didn't even know what fermentation was, or where alcohol came from, or any of that. to me, this was just a yucky capri sun. the recess monitor threw it out and got me another one from the kitchen - unpunctured.

and that's that right? nope.

so we go about our recess, whatever, but for some reason i can not stop thinking about that capri sun that we threw away. it's just emblazoned on my mind.

the bell rings for us to go back, and i claim "i need to go to the bathroom!" while everyone else files in.

and the path to the bathroom takes me right past the trash can with the capri sun in it.

and what did i do but lean into it, dig out my capri sun, and drink what was left of it??

before i was old enough to know what alcohol was, or what was in my hands, my brain instantly recognized and craved it so much that i snuck away from class to drink this drink that tasted disgusting back out of the trash can. i didn't think twice. my body knew what to do

so look, i'm no doctor, but what i do know is this. my body craves alcohol. i don't like being drunk, i'm not some hopeless fuck up. but from the day i was born until the day i will die, my brain is, was, and always will be screaming at me to drink it. no matter what it is.

i don't type this for pity or to excuse my shittiness when i drink - that's on me.

just saying, this runs deep. deeper than a lot of people think or know. and honestly i wouldn't believe this story if it didn't happen to me.

so maybe you learned something here. that's all.