Logan couldn’t remember when a few drinks became a bottle and then two bottles every night. He couldn’t point to one single moment or event as the cause. From his first drink at fourteen, alcohol began soaking into his skin, the moisture rotting him on the inside. Every few years he’d use a chisel to hack away all the wet, unsound wood without trying to find the source of the moisture. The rot always came back, stronger than before.

J.D. Ruskin

Tag: alcoholism jd-ruskin when-one-door-opens

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The booze makes you a liar and the lies you tell yourself are the biggest.

J.D. Ruskin

Tag: alcoholism jd-ruskin when-one-door-opens

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I know nobody ever got over being afraid of the dark by never turning off the lights.

J.D. Ruskin

Tag: agoraphobia when-one-door-opens

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