I’m Laila. Nice to meet you all I guess. Why don’t you introduce yourself in the comments so I know I’m not talking to the faceless void of the internet? Also, conversation is nice sometimes. The internet can be a lonely place, especially when clicks and likes count toward your popularity.

Not that I want to be popular. Luckily, that was never my goal. But I feel like maybe my story is important, and that’s why I’m trying to put it all out there. No one ever hears the stories of addicts like me.

Yeah, I’m an addict. I’m not proud, how could I be?

I am also an eighth-grade math teacher and a single mother of two high school students. Not your average alcoholic, but that’s probably why this story is so important.

That’s the addiction I have: alcohol.

It is always surprising to people for some reason. Maybe I just don’t look like your typical alcoholic. I’m not unattractive. I have a nice smile and my skin is a lovely shade of brown. I keep my hair manageable and always looked put together, even in my darkest moments.

Most people think of alcoholics as unkempt or dirty with bags under their eyes and vacant expressions. I could be like that too, but only on the weekends when there wasn’t any school. I was a very controlled and precise alcoholic, but I was one nonetheless.

This is the story of how my alcoholism took over my life. I didn’t mean for it to, but the addiction grew a mind of its own, so quickly I couldn’t manage it.

We’re going take a look at where it began, which isn’t what you expect, and how it continued, which is probably a bit more predictable.

As I said, I’m Laila, and boy do I have a story for you.