I’m not sure what to even write at this point. I do like my previous entry. Reading my list of goals is near akin to listening to a motivational speech that I wrote to myself. However, ending back in the same place over and over again is creating an undercurrent of resignation. In time, it could sweep me away into full blown learned helplessness. I made it about two weeks and then I had a dance with my deamon that may have surpassed what I thought most surely had to be my worst. I believe I ended my dance on Tuesday morning, August 10. I called off the skilled nursing facility Wednesday and I barely survived working at the Hospital Thursday. I was dishonest multiple times to hide this episode and I find the loss of integrity palpably painful.
My trigger: I found two half gallons of vodka in the trunk of Suzi’s car. She had assured me the alcohol would be out of the house the day following the party, and I found the vodka about a week later. Once I knew they were there, I simply looked for a reason to drink and a reason is always easy to find. If I recall correctly, I drank the half gallons, two more pints of vodka, two pints of whiskey, and 3 of 6 fairly high abv beers. I think this was from Saturday night to Tuesday morning. I also smoked quite a bit.
My confidence and ambition are still on the rebound. I still feel that the mental fog has yet to fully clear. I am already justifying my next bender, rationalizing that once about every two weeks is all I need to keep the stress and anger manageable. This may even be true; however, I have yet to execute a reasonable facsimile of this plan. Rather, I flirt with lethal execution every few months.
