Not going to cite the source, since it spoils part of this game, and it’s currently popular.

I have something to say. So shut the fuck up and listen. I spent thirteen years half-cut up to my eyeballs. Drunk, to put it mildly. Then suddenly I saw it, a streetlight shining in my face. 500 Gigawatts of the power of God. A vision of my bloated body found in some ditch. Scared me straight. So I got a collar shirt, mortgage and a credit card. All the things that make me a good man. I hoped I could raise my children to be better than their old man. I wanted to believe I was never one setback away from my worst self. But the truth is. Discipline. Drive. Routine. The endless fucking desperation to get shit done. A loving wife? Great kids? Sobriety? I’m telling you. You. Accomplishments I’ve been chasing my whole life. Never felt as good as I expected when I crossed the finish line… So now that we’re at the end. Takin’ inventory. Those nights spinning out of my head, sinking into the sofa. Broken glass in my palms. Bleeding dry the funniest thing ever. Old dogs laughing and snarling on a waterbed floor, mocking the moon for daring to show its face. All nausea and wreckage and vomit and ugly cruelty. The only problem in the world an empty bottle. Those were the best days of my life. Yeah… Those were the best days of my life. I got nothing to hide. Ready to face the music. I can see myself for what I am. But you, a cowardly, selfish motherfucker and you can’t even see it… I should’ve been able to protect the kid. If I could have done one thing right, I wish it had been to give him one small chance off this goddamned rock.