Seven fucking years. I have been struggling with the exact same shit for seven fucking years. My most recent escapade resulted in calling off three days of work and having to talk with Suzi about it. The physical and psychological fallout was not the worst I’ve had, but in the top 10 for certain. Probably top five. It is not an exercise in superfluous poeticism to say that in dancing with my deamon, I trade ambition for apathy and confidence for complacency. The latter half is quite literal. I started drinking on Monday the 11th and I stopped on either Tuesday the 12th or Wednesday the 13th. I am just now starting to feel the urgency of living that was nearly palpable up until that first drink.
There was a party at our house on July 4th. For several days I asked for the beer that was left over in a cooler to please be emptied. I’m not sure if I would have went for alcohol on the 11th had the beer not been there, but I definitely had a time of it once I got started. I drank the six or so beers that were in the basement, two pints of whiskey, whatever vodka was left over, and six or so apple something drinks that were 8% ABV. The time I had two fifths and a liter of whiskey back to back was definitely worse, but I’m not going to be able to keep bouncing back from this shit. Once again, it’s not so difficult to refrain in the wake of physical and psychological obliteration; however, I will begin to rationalize as the pain wanes and the weeks wear on. I just wish this was a fight I could finish and be done with.
For now, my focus will be on scheduling days off each week, working on the app / seminar project, the cheer strength project [I worked on neither of those projects], getting the house rent ready [three years later the house is still not rent ready], and figuring out a way to advance my skillset in orthopedics [I am still pretty awful on this front]. I will journal three times per week and begin utilizing a weekly to do list again.
