Drinking is the only time that I feel safe inside of my own head, because my sober thoughts eat me alive and repeatedly stab at my heart. While I try to convince the entire world that I’m just fine. But I exist in a life that no longer feels like my own, couting calories before binge eating. I cannot escape the torment that I feel as the number on the scale becomes branded onto my hip. Because thigh gaps and collar bones deep enough that they could hold water, meant that you were pretty. And oh how I yearned to be seen as irresistibly beautiful by a person who only has eyes for me. But just like the moon who is overwhelmingly surrounded by the stars, I am alone in a society that is occupied by billions of miserable people who just want to be seen. Loneliness completely consumes my being as it traps me inside of a mind that just won’t shut off unless a bottle is glued onto my lips. And I crave the euphoric feeling a bottle brings as it silences the voices and makes me not feel alone in this everlasting insanity.