I have been every level of dependance...sometimes a drink or two out with friends, sometimes going weeks without drinking and then a weekend spent binging on anything with a % sign on it. I spent weeks plastered because the world scared me too much. When I drank I felt better, I was alive, I felt good, I wanted to be near happy people...I wanted to laugh again, even if it was false, I wanted something to break up the monotony of sadness that my life had become. I was surrounded by people, family, friends...but it would not kill that lonely feeling, it could not murder that sense of separateness I felt everytime I looked outside myself. Strangely enough I could not do drugs they made me limp, non existant, a large lump of nothingness stuck in my head. I felt that everyday...why would I take a pill to make me feel it again? I was escaping those things through alcohol...what I did not understand at the time was that the people I was with were doing the same thing. But I still go out to feel alive again...is that strange? Knowing these things full well and still finding comfort in them? They are familuar to me, a blanket.