Small But Mighty

My loneliness was a ceaseless, tangible thing, which gnawed away at my guts like a particularly nasty form of cancer. The cause of all this loneliness was that something inside me, beyond my control, made me vicious and frequently violent. I drank heavily every day in an effort to keep down the pain of being me. But the more I drank, the worse it got. And, the worse it got, the more I drank. I found myself trapped in the proverbial vicious circle. I didn't want to be the way I was; I just couldn't stop.