I felt a twinge of shame for drinking as much as I had, but the feeling was more than offset by the lovely feeling of emptiness inside my head. Staggering to my feet, I stumbled out to the garage and placed the empty bottle with the rest of the recycling. Squinting into the bin, I counted another four bottles, one for every night I’d run panicking from my bed in the past week. As I stared at them, the thought occurred to me that I could become an alcoholic. At that precise moment, it did not seem like an unreasonable solution to my problems.
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