This Beautiful Life

Isn’t it funny the reactions that an in depth study on drinking alcohol can provoke?

‘Oh it’s the Daily Mail, must be crap’ or ‘we’re all gonna die anyway, what’s two years less?’ or ‘so & so lived til 95 & they’re ok’

I think the point was missed.

Of course alcohol will harm you. No study needs to tell you that. We know it but we choose (mostly) to ignore it. Ingesting any kind of poison over a prolonged time will result in some kind of damage.

I know I’m going to die. No study needs to tell me that either, but I do have a choice whether I choose to damage myself to the point of no return or give myself a fighting chance on this amazing planet.

I’m sorry (not sorry) but I don’t want to die of liver disease or develop dementia or get cancer. I’m sure no one wants to. But having the attitude ‘we’re all gonna die anyway’ and cracking open another bottle in defiance ain’t gonna help the cause.

Sure, I’ve already increased my chances of all of these things during my lengthy career knocking back the wine like water, but now I have seen the very bright light. This stuff kills and maims worse than anyone has been telling us. It’s also not just about the hideous diseases to look forward to at the end of our lives, it’s also about the slow, torturous mental health issues that it brings on a daily basis.

There are always going to be the sober haters. I don’t give a shit. My life is nothing to do with them. This part of my life is about love and care for myself, not deliberate destruction. My body is clever and precious and mine. I have a lot to see and do and a lot of people to stay alive for. I need as many precious years as possible so two years tagged on the end for me is a Brucie bonus.

Nothing is going to take them from me.


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