To the alcoholic, booze is pure evil; it creates disastrous misfortune in a most insidious manner. It slowly, but ever-so progressively, takes hold of an alcoholic’s intuition, rational decision-making skills and eventually, self-worth. The alcoholic quiets the inner voice that suggests that their drinking is out of control, allowing themselves to justify the choice to drink and drive, eventually believing they deserve nothing better from life than what alcohol provides. When the alcoholic, who’s lost all sense of inner value and hope, looks back at who they were before the drinking began, it’s baffling to believe that the two versions of self belong to the same person. That’s the stealthy nature of the evil beast.
I cannot drink again. For me, one drink will lead to complete destruction of my relationships, my job, my life. How can a substance be a safe source of occasional social pleasure for some, and a wrecking ball of ruin for another? Perhaps I cannot call the substance “evil.” It’s an unfair label on something that a large percentage of the population can consume without eventually becoming destitute. I am not one of those people. My body and mind’s reaction to alcohol is evil; it is an abandonment of my intuition and my body’s natural desire to survive and thrive.
I am grateful to have come to this understanding. For too many years my mind stifled my intuition and allowed me to believe that I could handle a few drinks. I am grateful to have finally learned from the countless times I gave into this ridiculous theory. I am grateful that today I do not desire what causes an evil reaction for me.
Write about evil: how you understand it (or don’t), what you think it means, or a way it’s manifested, either in the world at large or in your life.