Slowly, it feels as if the mental fog is lifting. A sense of urgency, ambition, and confidence is returning. Also, and most surprisingly, maybe a modicum of patience. I had full intentions of ruining my night out of childish spite. Even after lifting and the rest of my afternoon went well. For whatever reason, I had it in my head that the most pleasurable approach to the evening would be self-sabotage. At some point, I decided to pull my head out of my ass and I am grateful that I did. I had a great evening with Suzi in spite of myself.
It is also worth noting I had some fairly grounding revelations while writing about my values for the SMART program. The handbook asks that you write down all the values you can think of, then categorize them, and narrow it down to the big five. When you are done, you should ask yourself why your drug of choice isn’t on that list. Obviously, it’s a fucking priority. Since it didn’t make the list, reflecting on how it affects your other values is worthwhile.
Since I already make daily goals based on mind, body, compassion, money, and chores, I used that as my starting point. “Chores” aren’t really a value, so I decided that it reflected accountability. So I made my big five: mental health, physical wellbeing, compassion, reflexive demonstration of core values (honesty, integrity, accountability, patience), and financial freedom. Even though it should have been self-evident, after some reflection, it caught me off guard just how profoundly my drinking affects each of the big five.
The effect on mental health is explicitly mentioned in the past few journal entries. I repeatedly write about the persistent, pervading mental fog. The effect on physical health is also well documented. I was slowly killing myself. Going rogue and being completely unreachable for days at a time undermined the value I place on relationships, as well as accountability. Hiding my drinking compromised honesty and integrity. The fallout from such binges creates anxiety and destroys my patience. And the detriment to finances is not just limited to the amount of money I spent on booze. To be fair, I’m actually a pretty cheap drunk. But drinking also destroys my ambition and drive to pursue financial independence.
It’s fucked.
Lastly, my mantra for the day, after deciding not to ruin my night in a fit of self-sabotage, was “it’s fine to feel like a child, just don’t act like a fucking child.”
