Once I was told that the average age of alcoholic people is about 52 years old. 52 years old... now I'm 46. If I kept on drinking alcohol, my life would end after about 6 years... it's short? Or long? Once I was a heavy drinker, I thought 40 years were enough for me because Franz Kafka, one of the writers I respect, had passed away at that age. If I couldn't write great novels until that age, then my life was a loser's life. I had no talent and that's all. I believed so and had been drinking a lot of alcohol every day.
At that age, 40, when I would die. An accident happened and my drinking had stopped. I thought about what I should do. Of course, I could drink again and would die at 52 or more. That's life. But I thought that it was quite a loser's life. Miserable, pity, sad... I couldn't think more and I decided to stop drinking and started attending the "stop-drinking-alcohol" meetings.
Even now, I feel sad when it becomes a fine day. A fine day... I am an autistic person, therefore, I can't drive a car. I just stayed at home and watched some kind of dirty videos. And I started drinking... That was my life. For me, beer cans are the symbol of the memories of staying dark room and saying f--k to the world. I said a lot of f--k to the world. Why can't I get any good job? Why can't I get beautiful women? Why can't I?
You may say I'm spoiled. That makes sense. I was once a stupid person. Now I can go out of my room and make friends all over the world. If it is because of my bad memories, I have to appreciate my alcohol addiction.