Man, I have no clue how to DM on this thing either… But, I really hate to hear that there’s anyone else on this rock in the same boat I’m in. Though, I know there’s tons of us. Shittiest part?: ain’t the first time I’ve fucked up in this exact same goddamn way. You’re really right about alcohol bringing out the “Real You” that you’re hiding on all your sober days and nights. It just isn’t true at all. It amplifies your fears and suspicions, and brings that shit to the front of your mind where you too easily accept that crazy shit as the truth… Even though as soon as you sober up, wake up, and she’s literally walked the fuck away in the cold and the rain, and she’s not laying there beside you, she ain’t in the shitter, she ain’t on the couch… And you call and when she answers you give that pleading question: “Where the fuck are you? What the fuck happened?” Because you literally can’t answer those questions yourself… Because you were too fucking drunk to form fucking memories, but still tried to settle some bullshit that only exists in your fucking head to begin with. And wouldn’t take the truth for an answer… Well, hopefully she’s been there, fucking understands what happened… Anything else and you’re probably fucked… Man, I was lucky… She truly understands. Will not put up with that shit on the regular… Will not listen to those same excuses again. The problem she had and is recovering from herself is a different problem, but similar to mine and yours. I thought she fucking slipped, in the back of mind… The more I drank the more forward The Boys In The Basement marched with that doubt they’d been chewing on all damn day… And the more that doubt turned into truth, or accusation, anyways… Guess I thought it Was truth, but I was fucking wrong… You probably get the fucking jist. And here’s an angelic stroke of reason from her: she told me that I should trust her, but if I really couldn’t: then to just go grab a fucking drug test and keep it on hand… So that if I really got that worked up and worried then just whip it out and see the truth with my own eyes… It was such a simple and reasonable answer to that question that grew into anger and mistrust, lead her to walk away from that drunk, unreasonable piece of shit that I become on some dark days… Fuck, she was literally fully serious. And we’re close enough that I could sit right there and watch the pee hit the cup, if ya know what I mean… No doubter… But, that fucking way-too-far drunk me would’ve never listened to reason, son of a whore never does. But that true care she showed me, thoughtful reason and understanding really got me, man. I owe her something for that. There’s only one goddamn way I can ever guarantee that doesn’t happen again (not that I gave her that guarantee, I’d be a fucking liar to say that it’s not a possibility) is to lay that fucking shitty bottle the fuck down. So I fucking quit five days ago. And I ain’t drinking a fuckin drop today. I hope all settles in your life… Really didn’t mean for this to be an outpour, but it’s the first time I’ve expressed it. Feels better to write it the fuck down and make it real in the world. Stay tough, man.