#drinking problems

[manic-pixie-mayhem444]

Matt Murdock Drinks The Eel

Trigger warning for alcohol, mention of death, night terrors, and emetaphobia

Friday never meant anything to Daredevil but for the first time it meant something for Matt Murdock. He casually tapped the ground infront of him with his cane but even without his heightens senses he could have found Josie’s. He allowed Karen to guide him across the busy intersection at fifth and main where the man sold all beef hot dogs smothered in onion, Foggy was about two feet behind eating one. They stood at the corner where the trash would be picked up at precisely 10:00am tomorrow. Matt heard the cars stop as he began walking forward with Karen still linked in his arm.

“Thank you miss page.” He said once they had crossed the street.

She lingered a second before letting go of his arm. “Anything for you Mr. Murdock.” She said with comically refined intonation.

“What kind of accent is that” Matt asked mockingly jabbing between her ankles with his cane.

“Um a very accurate upper class Vermont accent”

“Upper-upper class Vermont?” Matt chuckled

Ack let’s just skip ahead for now

“No it’s Licker before beer your in the clear beer before licker never been sicker.” Karen slurred.

“No no no it’s beer before wine you are fine wine after licker never been-“ Foggy drifted off “I don’t know something.”

Matt sat down with shots for the three of them.

“What are you doing buying shots?” Karen asked “This is your night.”

“It’s our night.” Foggy reminded her. “To NMP”

“NMP?” Matt asked.

“Nelson Murdock…” Matt interrupted before Karen could finish.

“We are not calling it NMP.” He grinned as he set down his shot glass beside his empty beer bottle.

“Why not? All the greats use initials.” Foggy reminded him.

Matt laughed to cover a hiccup. “Think I’m gonna use the little boys room.” He said coming to a stand…sort of. He was still using the table to support himself and he nearly knocked a bottle of the edge.

Karen stared after him but only for a moment before Foggy interjected.

“Ah yes, Matt Murdock-a gorgeous specimen, you may look Ms.Page but you can’t touch. That man’s ass is a sacred artifact.” Karen detected a hint of jealousy in Foggy’s voice.

“Have you ever seen him like this before?” She asked.

“Drunk or Happy?” Foggy answered his rhetorical question “Because my honest answer is…I’m too drunk to remember.”

“Hey remember that one time with the eel?” Karen asked.

“Now that I am not too drunk to remember and that is a brilliant idea. Josie?”

“Wait tonight?” Karen asked with an uncertain smile.

Matt returned to the table and settled back into his seat. “What did I miss?” He asked.

“Foggy’s getting the infamous Eel drink.” Karen explained.

“Ah.”

“And you are gonna drink the eel.” Foggy gave Matt a rough pat on the shoulder.

“Ahh I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” Matt jerked the corner of his mouth nervously.

“Why not? You are a free man Mathew Murdock.” Foggy said a little too loud. “You owe the world nothing! Tonight we celebrate, tomorrow we sleep in!” Foggy lifted his empty bottle above his head theatrically and Matt made mental note because it might be the last thing he’d remember.

They passed the bottle around and Matt felt the guilt settling into his stomach. Here he was worried about following his father’s footsteps to a destructive life of alcoholism. But alcohol wasn’t a temptation for Matt, not the way protecting the city was, not the way his self righteous addictions caused more harm than good.

Though he wondered. Maybe Daredevil wasn’t so far behind. The only thing that stood between him and vigilantism was his closet door. Even then he could still watch over the city without the costume, there were other ways to protect his identity.

But the image of pointdexter in the church a single shot away from Karen snapped him back to reality. If he ever put her or foggy in that kind of danger again he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He resolved to get just drunk enough to ignore the fire engines. If he could drink just enough to make himself a little dizzy he could slow his senses and he wouldn’t be able to fight. Besides this was good right? Spending a night out like a normal person.

“Oh I’ve got a game.” Karen said as she passed the bottle to Matt. “Truth or drink. One of us asks a question and if the other can’t answer it they have to drink.”

“Allright.” Matt agreed. “Who’s our first witness?”

“Wait I’ve got one for Karen.” Foggy cleared his throat. “Miss page where were you on the night of November 15th 8:30pm 2018”

Karen snickered “Thats not even an important date.”

“So? You still have to answer the question.” Foggy said with a disapproving tilt of his head.

“I don’t remember.” Karen persisted.

“Ha! Drink!”

“That’s not fair.” She involuntarily glanced at Matt for backup but he had already chosen a side.

“Well technically she answered the question.”

“Objection!” Foggy shouted and nearly knocked the table over as he stood.

“Allright fine.” Karen took a swig and passed the bottle to Matt. The twelve or so pulls at the bottle Matt had already taken were starting to take effect and he fumbled a moment to find the bottle in Karen’s hand.

“Oh oh I’ve got another one!” Foggy said excitedly.

“Who smells better me or Karen?”

“Karen. no question.”

Matt could hear her pulse quicken slightly and he sensed her body temperature shifting. He was relieved not to have to test his equilibrium for a minute.

Matt passed the bottle to foggy and asked a question without giving a second thought. “How do you say lawyer in Punjabi?”

Foggy mumbled something incoherent, took a swig, and passed the bottle to Karen.

“Allright Karen, what is Matt’s best feature?”

Foggy instantly regretted the question but Karen was playing her own game. She bit her lip and took a swig.

“My charming personality of course.” Matt smiled taking the bottle from her and absently taking a swig.

“Wait…okay Matt what do I smell like?” Karen asked.

Matt winced. Words slipped of his tongue before he could put them together… “sort of like…lavender kind of earthy but calming. Angeli di Firenze? He asked smoothly.

Karen snorted “Matt that’s my deodorant.”

With each round the questions became more personal and there ability to articulate dissolved in techquila. Matt hiccuped as he was handed a nearly empty bottle.

He took a slow deep breath to try to center him self.

“Oh oh I got a good one… “ Karen laughed “you can only save one of us. Is it me or….”

“He’s gonna pick me Karen we all know you can save yourself. I’ve got a better one. You have to kill one of us. Who’s it gonna be? Me or Karen?”

Matt swore under his breath, glanced inside the bottle, remembered he was blind and sat it back down. “That’s a fucking terrible question.” He murmured. His stomach was at its tipping point but that question nauseated him worse than anything he had drank so far. That was the whole reason he was here in the first place. Without Karen, without Foggy he was empty. As long he stayed out of harms way his friends were safe and that was as good a reason as any to sacrifice the mask. There was no answer to this question and to drive that home Matt made every grizzly effort to choke down the eel. The texture made him gag and he desperately reached for a chaser, a glass of water even soda.

He couldn’t close his mouth for a minute. “Ugh that was…horrendous.” He coughed.

“Hey you did it.” Karen lifted her empty shot to toast him.

“Proud of you buddy.”

Matt’s tired smirk shifted to a wince as Foggy pulled him in for a rough side hug that jostled the sickening concoction in his belly.

“Thanks.” Matt said thickly. His face and hands seemed to be a thousand miles away. He only knew where his stomach was because he could hear it percolating with eel juice.

“ you. Are… waisted..Matt Murdock”. Karen grinned.

Matt moaned and leaned back in his chair trying to focus on his breathing.

“Spins?” Foggy asked.

“Oh yea.” Matt confirmed, bracing his back against the chair and drawing in a deep breath. He burped softly into his fist and tried to remember which way was up.

He was losing track of his stomach save the soft drunken gurgle. He tried to swallow back a brief sick feeling but he couldn’t find his throat.

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. He thought to himself. He must have had atleast half the bottle whirling through his blood stream. His chizeled gut bloaty and tinder.

Matt hoped he hoped he remembered where his bladder was. Fuck he had to pee and he had no idea how he was gonna get there. “Karen can you help me find the men’s room?”

“you try asking … I dunno , a man?” Foggy suggested.

“Didn’t you find it earlier?” Karen asked. “Wait we practically live at Josie’s how do you not know where the restroom is?”

“I’m pretty drunk.” Matt had given up on keeping his head upright “and well… blind.”

“We can take you back to your place if you need help.” Karen offered.

Matt tried to answer but the words melted on his tongue. He grabbed his cane and leaned against the wall.

“I got you buddy.” Foggy promised and helped Matt down the hallway to the restroom.

“Foggy you’re the best.” Matt said wistfully. But when he opened the door the smell of the urinals and clogged toilets caught in his throat and Matt rushed into one of the stalls to vomit. Helplessly belching into the toilet. his stomach felt so full and yet so empty. He kept thinking of the worm slithering up from his rediscovered insides and creeping up his esophagus.

Matt found himself in a spiral of gagging and puking and groaning. “Drink the eel they said it will be fun they said” he groaned quietly.

“Matt? You okay buddy?” Foggy asked from behind the door of the stall.

“Never better.” Matt groaned and forced himself to stand. He was shaking and Foggy’s pulse was ticking fast.

He coughed, spit a few times and flushed the toilet. Closing his eyes he leaned heavy on the bathroom wall. Even if he was laying on the sealing at least he could breathe now. He swallowed back an unsavory burp.

Then his abdomen began to convulse again and Matt Murdock was back on his knees. He was no stranger to the sit stand kneel routine but this was agonizing. When his body finally gave up trying to purge the poison out of him he shamelessly opened the door to the stall and went to wash his hands.

“Oh man. You look like death.” Foggy said taking inventory of his friends chapped lips and lack of color.

“Is death this handsome?” Matt groaned sardonically. He knew if he looked anything like he felt it couldn’t possibly be a good thing.

He put one hand on Foggy’s shoulder and braced his stomach with the other.

“Let’s get you home buddy.” Foggy promised.

“You guys okay?” Karen asked unsteadily.

“Let’s just say our friend is not immune to the powers of the eel.”

“I’ll be fine.” Matt breathed. “Probably best if I get home.”

“Oh shit did you puke?”

Matt held up his finger and thumb to indicate a trivial space.

“ you ever wanted to see a human volcano?” Foggy added.

“Alright..” Matt interjected

“Oh no.” Karen tried not to let her laughter dull her sympathy.

“Why don’t you take him.” Foggy offered to Karen. “I’ll go tell Josie to close our tab.”

Matt was sweating through his tight fitting button up shirt, he had started to unbutton the collar as he was getting drunk and left it that way. He leaned his head on Karen’s delicate shoulder, her smell a welcome reprieve from all he had he just indured.

“I missed this.” He whispered

Karen reached up to rub her fingers through his hair and Matt moaned softly at her touch.

But his stomach was swollen with drink and he was clearly not in a state to make any decisions.

“Why’d you stop?” Matt hiccuped.

“I don’t want to ruin a perfect night.” She said softly.

“That’s a word for it.” Matt grimaced.

He felt like he was lucid dreaming. He couldn’t be 100 percent sure any of his words were actually coming out and he didn’t know what he really even wanted to say. “I hate eels.” Was all he could manage.

His dreams that night were a flaming carousel an eel spinning it round and round laughing with its needle sharp mouth…it was pointdexters voice. Matt could feel his head being crushed by the tight fitting devil mask. Whatever flaming horse he had chosen bobbed up and down…up….and down as it spun. Fisk’s voice came on over a loud speaker it’s vicious cycle Murdock. You can’t escape the Devil…you are the Devil.” Up… and down… “you’re on an endless carousel. Matt could feel guns strapped to hands. You will always choose the path that hurts the people who trust you the most.” It was his voice now he couldn’t feel his hands, couldn’t control them. One hand aimed at foggy the other aimed at Karen. A lump rose in his chest, tension in his head as tears built up behind his eyes.

“Don’t do this Matt.” Foggy’s voice cried out “

“You’re better than this.” Tears stood in Karen’s eyes, Matt could taste the saline on his tongue. His throat constricted as he pulled the trigger. With a bang he bolted awake and threw up.

“Jesus” he gagged at the smell of his own vomit and heaved up a little more.

He tossed aside his now soiled sheets and made his way to the kitchen for some cleaning supplies.

Every step made Matt’s head feel like it was about to burst. Distant sirens weren’t helping and he took a minute to lean over the sink and regain his composure. He ran a hand through his mess of hair and drew in a pungent breath.

He needed to brush his teeth but the thought of anything touching his tongue was nauseating. There was a solution,

A hot shower, a hot shower, some water, maybe a greasy breakfast and Matt would be able to just go out and do what he should have been doing last night.

How many people had died last night because of his irresponsibility? He squeezed his eyes tight. The sirens continued to reprimand him every howling fire engine a scream right in his ear from someone he could have saved. But where was he? Drunk off his ass puking his guts up in Josie’s bar. Is this what it meant to put up the mask? Then he didn’t want any part of it.

He gently opened his closet door and reached for an old box. The smell of leather brought him instant comfort. He sat the box down and began to pull his shirt off over his head. He paused a moment at the sound of someone ascending the stair well and pulled his shirt back on. He could tell by her gate she would stop at his door and he could tell by her smell that he would be happy if she did. Then came the knocking and Matt snapped back to the room.

Every sound put Matt’s teeth on edge, even the alcaceltzer he left on the kitchen counter was fizzing too loud. A gentle tap on the door made him want to die. But he begrudgingly answered it so at the very least the pounding would subside.

Karen had to admit the black tshirt she and foggy had made him put on was compensation for his blood shot gaze and pale complexion.

“Karen? What are you doing here?”

Matt rubbed his head as he padded back to the kitchen, his grey sweat pants loose on his hips.

“I just thought I should stop by and make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit.”

“You’re starting to sound like Clair.” Matt told her.

“Least one of us does.” Karen said archly. “Seriously though are you okay?”

“I’ve got a hangover the size of Manhattan.” Matt toasts with his glass of effervescent water.

“I don’t mean hungover.” Karen said. “I mean with all of this.”

“Yea. Yea it’s fine. Alcaseltzer?” Matt offered.

“Because I know you keep your Daredevil get up in that box laying next to your closet.”

“Oh.” Matt laughed. “Must have fallen out when I was getting cleaning supplies…I kinda threw up in my bed this morning.”

“Matt!”

“I know… but I hear them Karen. I’m not like iron man or something the powers don’t come and go with the suit. I hear every scream, every un answered cry for help. I hear all of it. I thought maybe if I got drunk enough I could confuse my senses and block it all out but it just comes back the next day. Full circle, like a carousel I can’t get off.”

[bagdyernoke]

Phil Collins - Wikipedia

Collins recalled: "I went through a few bits of darkness; drinking too much. I killed my hours watching TV and drinking, and it almost killed me." 

Kinek a tv, kinek az internet.

[yournewfriendshouse]

ok I have no idea if this will help anyone but for those who struggle to drink water because of like mouth feel, I’ve discovered a bit of brown creaming soda in a water glass like…makes the water feel soft and gives it a bit of a caramel hint to it but not (for me at least) in a gross way

which is shocking because usually that isn’t how soda behaves

I discovered this because I couldn’t be bothered getting a clean glass after having the soda as a treat and it was like this comfy ghost was in the water ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[amspams]

Intoxicated

A/N: This one's a little longer.

TW: Swearing, substances, vomiting

It was currently two a.m. Tiffany had cried herself to sleep after a big fight with her husband. She thought things had finally gotten better between the two of them. But apparently she'd been stupid to think so.

She tossed and turned restlessly on the mattress. This was the third time she'd woken up that night. She was worried sick. After the couple's fight, Charles had grabbed his jacket and ran off. Tiffany wasn't sure when or if he was coming back at all. The thought of losing him once again terrified her.

She got up from their shared bed - or what had been shared, as his side was empty now - and walked over to the closet. She opened it and looked at her clothes. Then she looked at Chucky's.

...

Her fingers grazed the soft fabric. Surely he wouldn't mind? She thought, and threw on one of his white tees. It was a little tight on her, as Chucky was a slim guy, but it still fit her and she looked good.

Tiffany quietly made her way down the stairs, careful not to wake up the twins. Then she sat down on the couch in front of the family TV. She sighed. Where was he?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2.37 a.m. She'd almost managed to fall asleep. However, loud banging brought her back to reality. Who the hell was knocking on her door at this hour?

Pissed off, Tiffany grabbed her pistol from the cabinet and stormed to the entrance. She shoved the door open and pointed the gun at the person. "Whoever you think you are, just know that-"

Tiffany was caught off guard. "Chucky!?"

"Heya, sweetcheeks," he said, slobbering over his words as he stumbled towards her. Tiffany caught him before he could fall. "Damn, my bad. Anyways, look at this cool shit I found."

Chucky waved a car's side view mirror in front of her face. "Ain't it a sweet find?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, where did you get that?" Tiffany asked, snatching the item from his hand and inspecting it. How he'd been able to break it off the respective vehicle was beyond her.

"Uh, dunno. It's a lil cracked though. Think I could sell it?"

Tiffany was baffled. "What- no! Are you drunk?"

"Nah," Chucky said. "I wanna tell ya something though."

"Oh god, what did you do now?"

Chucky scratched his head. "I ain't sayin' I did it or anything, but."

"But?"

"Pretty sure someone spewed on the sidewalk."

Tiffany stared at him blankly.

"What? It wasn't me!"

Chucky's face then paled.

"Oh hell no. C'mon, to the toilet, right now," she said, and dragged the man into the house.

Just before they would reach the bathroom, Chucky decided to stop and throw up anything he'd had left in his stomach from the day before onto Tiffany's favourite white rug.

She suppressed a shriek of utter horror and guided him into the bathroom instead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3.42 a.m. Chucky sat sprawled on the cold floor infront of the toilet. He watched as Tiffany frantically scrubbed the mat with a sponge, soap and water in the bathtub.

"Man I feel like shit."

Tiffany lashed out. "Oh yeah? How do you think I feel!?"

"Why are you yellin' at me. It's not like I did it on purpose," Chucky muttered.

Tiffany ignored him and continued scrubbing.

Chucky then got up, staggered over to her and looked over her shoulder. "Geez, I wouldn't wanna wash that shit for a hundred bucks."

Tiffany sighed.

"I don't think ya should waste anymore of your time on that."

"God, just shut up," Tiffany said. But deep down, she knew he was right. There was no saving that rug. She'd just have to buy a new one.

"Ugh, why can't you just be responsible for once!?" Tiffany screamed. "We have kids now goddamn it. You can't keep doing this shit. Do you want to end up like your father?"

Chucky scowled, and Tiffany could see a hint of sadness in his eyes.

She let go of the rug and wrapped her arms around her husband. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to say that."

"It's fine."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have used that against you," she said. "Listen, how about this. I'll go throw out the rug and then make you something to eat. You must be starving. Meanwhile, you can take a bath."

"Alright."

Tiffany rolled the rug and watched as Chucky stumbled into the tub. "Sweetface, you need to take off your clothes first."

"Huh, why?"

"Oh my god, just take off your fucking clothes."

"Geez, woman. No need to get all worked up."

Tiffany then left with the rug.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later and after all of that, Tiffany stayed up to make Chucky some swedish meatballs because the devious bastard refused to eat anything else. She's just that sweet.

[ineedfairypee]

She’s bottling it up 🍾

But I’m really not into bottling it up 🤐

[patamon0001]

Ignore the background.. that's a learning process man..

Here's the sketches too :D

[robins--corner]

guy

tw // depictions of alcoholism and being drunk, also a lil blood and bruises & implied abuse

[melancholicvnt]

alcoholism is beating my ass right now. like i just wish i could be drunk forever.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Finally caught up with Apothecary Diaries. I can't believe they gave Maomao a gun.

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

yay water

time to drink water woo hoo yay

[hinamie]

mentor

[verday]

It was so important to me that Stolas was able to be sad throughout the entire episode. Usually media likes to rush a character's grief/depression/sadness. Like "Stop moping around" or "get over it already." Depression doesn't just go away. It is a persistent feeling of sadness.

His depression was also presented through various emotions/emotional states.

Lethargy

Crying

Anger / frustration

Self-blame

Not wanting company and being emotionally drained and unable to reciprocate

We even see him Smiling / Laughing which is so important because we see that he is still in there behind the sadness and tears. His laugh is not as lively as it once but he is still capable of smiling and finding joy.

His problems weren't fix in the end and his sadness didn't go away even if he has someone who loves him by his side (and even if he loves him too). And I think this is one of the best depictions I have seen of a depressed character in media in a long time.

[goddidntdothis]

rabid dog

[darkstarswitch]

I don't know

I realized something not too long ago. I realized that it is not his problem to tip toe around what triggers me. Ya know what sucks? I have said those exact same words to the people in recovery at the rehab center I worked at. What. A. Fucking. Ass I am. The problem I have now is that I don't know what to do when he triggers me. I don't know how to handle it. He's passed out drunk right now. My jaw hurts from clamping my teeth shut to keep from screaming at him. He does not care that his behavior, his drinking sets me off. I can't go anywhere. I can't go into a different room. I have to sit here and take it and pray for him to pass out. At least now I have about twenty minutes to myself.

I have said this before. I like to have some drinks. I'm not going to lie. I like going to the bar, having three drinks (cause that's all I can handle) and maybe a bit to eat. He, on the other hand, will double what I drink (and pound it down faster) and rush me out as fast as he can so that he can get home and have more to drink. All that means I have to babysit him so that he doesn't do anything stupid (like pick a fight with an Irishman-no lie. He picked a fight with a guy who was right off the boat from Ireland. Thank God, the Irishman was sober and as I ushered the asshole out and apologized to the Irishman, he looked me in the eye and said, "You could do so much better.")

I don't know how to handle his drinking and my trigger.

[z-oot]

Too much to drink