It only took one sip....

I can remember it like it was yesterday. I can barely remember my childhood but I can definitely remember my first drink. I was 14 years old, hiding in bushes, running through dark alleys, hiding behind abandoned buildings, anywhere we could go where we wouldn't get caught while we chugged back the bottles of wine coolers that some older guy we knew bought for us. It was exciting and invigorating being "bad" and getting away with it. Little did I know that this single night of excitement with this sweet tasting liquid that made me feel dizzy and gave me the giggles would be the beginning of a love affair that I would later come to regret ever knowing. This was my introduction to my addiction that was yet to come full force in my later years.
Most everyone has done it in their teens and early twenty's. You know...the days of bringing 4 coolers camping to May Long, filled to the top with beer except for one small corner that was saved for a package of wieners and buns. The teen dances where as long as you plastered on the eyeliner and teased your hair high enough you could pass for being old enough that they'd sell you tickets for drinks. The partying became my life, a way to fit in, something to pass the time and I was good at it. Growing up I didn't think I was good at anything or that I really ever fit in but when I drank that all changed. This was my comfort zone. This was something I was "good" at. While all the other girls at the party we're sipping on their second girly drink, I was pounding back shots of Tequila, downing my 12 beer and throwing out the one-liners like nobody's business. I was the star of the party, the center of attention and this is what I was craving so badly. I was "home".