Alcohol’s just there like
“Nah, I understand bro”
A few weeks ago, I broke down and told my friend Mat
“Y’know? My goals for the evening include drinking enough Landshark Lager to cry out all my sorrows and then hopefully pass out.”
I was in the middle of six days in a row without a day off, and the whole uncertainty of where I’ll be living thing was getting to me, among the million other odds and ends that make me so functionally nervous and scared. Many compiling factors on top of one of the worse days at work ever , and, on top of that, all I had to look forward to all day was a 40 of Pabst sitting in the fridge for me. Or so I thought was supposed to be there. Nobody ever bought it for me. We ran out and got something else, but, as pathetic as it sounds, that almost crushed me. I can’t tell you how many times I whimpered through the phrase “My life is pathetic” that night.
The weird thing is, though, sobbing through all of that like I’ve needed to for a while and actively recognizing how absolutely pathetic all that was really helped me feel a lot less despair and get on the track to figuring shit out more (which is still unaccomplished). Knowing how pitiful it was that finishing something I set out to do meant drinking, crying, and sleeping somehow made me feel better. Just stop lying to yourself and you’ll be happier, I guess.
This is the routine now. If it weren’t for Christmas, I would’ve worked for, like, 10 days straight or something.
So, when you get into my shoes like that, maybe it’ll be a bit more understandable that you would want to kill a few brain cells and start down some slippery slope to help forget about the days I have. Nearly killing yourself with stress every day, while really nearly killing yourself with overworking everyday, while nearly killing yourself with insomnia, while hurting yourself unnecessarily with alcohol because it’s somehow easier to obtain than weed at my age (this is beyond me), that’s the life for me. Apparently.
It’s amazing how a smile from just one special person, even in your head, can make you want to pull through all of that, though. Even if they live hundreds of miles away. It’ll all be worth it someday, someday…
Yep. This is the kind of shit I have going on when I come back to say something after months and months.
Sobriety is for the weak. (Not just alcohol-specific sobriety, to be clear.) I gotta do more shit that burns me out because I’m burnt out all the time, duh. Cool kids never die.