The Hole

There is a Hole. That Statement could work for almost any question you ask me about myself.
"How's Life?" Theres a hole.
"How's Sobriety?" Theres a hole.
"How are you doing?" Theres a hole.
It's basically the whole story within one statement. There is a hole.
If i wanted to be insightful, descriptive, and metaphorical, I could tell you something like, I lie in this hole with my life suffocating after every move i make. Or this hole swallows me alive, then chews and spits me out and stomps on me over and over again. But it's not like that. It's just a hole.
The hole itself does nothing to me. Its what i do in the hole. I didnt spend hours bringing it to life, nor did i rent it. One day, while i was minding my own business, id say at about 11, it just appeared. Ive never names it. Its not my friend or my family. Its pretty insignificant to anyone but me. ive never called the hole over for dinner or out to do some activity. Its just a hole. How could it? Its in animate.
The hole protects me when im scared. It protected me when my best friend and three other people just one day decided they didn't need me anymore. It watched me hurt myself. It hides me when my heart cant stand to see the light of day.
Its always dark down here. Sometimes the hole will let me sit there even when nothing went wrong. Its seen me try to drink my own weight in alcohol. It watched me lay on the hospital deb waiting to die when I OD'd. It let me climb to the bottom the next day when i was ashamed of myself. The hole has always been there for me throughout the years.
After everything i've ever done to anyone or myself, it doesn't care.
It never leave. After everything I've been through with this hole, there is only one catch. One compromise. One payment.
I am 5'6". The hole is 10' tall.