Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic…

My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.

Happy Thursday everyone! I’m not going to lie man. I’m worried about some of you! Truly. I want you to be well more than you do and I do not fucking get it! I see you…your worth, your potential…I see you and you don’t. I love you and you don’t. I want you and you don’t. I value you and you don’t. This has to stop my friends. This has to fucking stop! We cannot save the animals or the voiceless amongst us if we are inaccessible to our own selves, can we? We cannot truly embrace the broken in our midst if we do not right ourselves. We are broken. We are broken and we need to take some down time and mend ourselves. We need to do this now so that we can rise the fuck up! Those beatings you took…I took them too…the words and the disregard…I hear it too. Here’s the thing, those beatings do not define us unless we allow them to. Those words are our fuel and our momentum, if we will just allow them to be. This hell is the platform to launch us into the heavens. Like it or not, we are all we’ve got! We have to take care of us so that we can advocate for them. We must realize how important and instrumental we are in their fight. Before we can begin to do any of this, we must love ourselves as we love them. We must offer ourselves the same compassion that we offer them. We must love one another. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.

I come here some days and I just fucking can’t. One too many snickers as I pass by…one too may disappointments because of my own expectations. One too many trash cans slamming down on my fucking head. I just can’t some days. Today though…today, I fucking can and I will. Today, I will come here and write for us all. Today I will talk shit and today I may offend you. I will call you out and call you up. What the fuck are you doing? In the bottom of that fucking bottle, what in the fuck are you doing? Besides lying about it, what are you doing to set it down? Truly…look at you, lying to us and thinking we don’t see right through you. Look at you, lying to you, and fucking buying it. Jesus man, come the fuck up here and let me see that tear-stained face. Lying to me is nothing…I just won’t. Lying to you though…you won’t make it out of this alive if you don’t fucking stop. You are going to lose it all if you do not set that fucking bottle down. Your home, your husband, your car…your job, your wife, your freedom…you are pissing it all away and I cannot help but to stand here and beg you to fucking stop. Those pills you toss in your mouth…you know the ones not prescribed for you…ya you. Look at you. Just fucking look at you. Can you even see you anymore? Because I cannot. I cannot see you anymore. I feel you and I love you and I fucking miss you. Do you miss you? Between the lies and the hiding, the mania and the fallout, that you blame on everyone but yourself, do you miss you? I am here to tell you that your absence is noticed. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.

We are all sick. Many of us sicker than others. We all have our vices. We drink. We eat. We smoke. We gamble. We fuck. We fight. We are not so different from each other. We all have our own demons and they fucking come for us, don’t they? When we finally fall too far, they are right there waiting for us, to pull us down and rob us of our own souls. Aren’t you tired of this? Are you not so fucking exhausted by all of this rhetoric? Don’t your lies nauseate you as much as they nauseate the rest of us? Truly…where is your truth man. Your truth. Not mine. Not hers. Not his. Where is your truth. Why are you here? What are you doing with your life? My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.

I am not mad at you. I’m not disappointed in you. I just fucking love you so much. It pains me to see you so busted. It kills me to see you hurt. I hate watching you fall apart. I hate seeing the people who love you the very most hurting at your behavior. Truth is, you’re kind of an asshole man. You aren’t thinking of anyone but you. You do not even see the wreckage in your path,do you? This road you’re on…it is not going to end well if you don’t pull yourself together. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.

Hi. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic. I am sick like you. My thinking stinks, like yours does. Your stories are triggering the shit out of my own, for I also am an alcoholic. I hate to see you this way and I’m kind of upset with you right now. I’m not going to lie man. I am rooting for you and I fucking love you and it hurts me to the core to feel your pain. I know you’re sick. I’m sick too. I want you to have what I have, and I am so sad that you won’t come with me and get it. I am not PC. I will never be PC. So I’m just saying it how I see and feel it. I mean no disrespect and I’m not trying to step out of bounds. I am not mad. I am just really, really sad that you don’t see you as I see you. I am really sad that you do not love you as I love you. I am really crushed that you don’t love you enough to stop destroying yourself. My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic. You are my friend and I am worried about you. I love you and I am here for you.

My name is Coral and I am an alcoholic.