Today, or this morning to be exact (4:25 AM), I finally decided to agree to that cold hard resolution to stop getting wasted, and thereby stop wasting my life away. I?ve danced with the devil of moderation before and that foul fiend always leads me straight back down to the bottom of a bottle, or a box of NOS canisters, or a bag of pills, or what have you.
After being told by my best friend, who shall remain nameless, that we can no longer remain in contact with each other, as her girl friend found out about our long awaited one night stand (which occurred whilst we were both drunk and on meth? go figure), I proceeded to get myself as smashed, stoned, and asphyxiated as I possibly could, with the help of a few of the substances mentioned above and more. My girl friend actually aided me in this endeavour by taking pity on my poor delusional self and consequently providing me with a carton of cold dry beer and three boxes of NOS canisters. Together we wallowed in my misery, and together we fell; fell victim to our usual enemies.
My malady is not something belonging only to my sad twisted heart in our relationship; it is a shared affliction, a common illness. As such, our addictions bounce back and forth between the two of us, feed off each other and fuel each other. Her suffering equates to a lack of sobriety for myself and my sadness drives her alcoholism. We drink out of sympathy, empathy, love and a common desire to exceed the normal limits of our usual sensory experiences.
But, this shall all change. I can no longer remember names, recognise faces, or recall the nights I once enjoyed oh so much. I fear that my brain may be beginning to resemble a piece of Swiss cheese; it?s full of holes and fermenting.
So, to end this three and a half year bout of self-induced suffering I will move back in with my father, who will hopefully answer my cry for help. To do this I will need to find a new job that is closer in proximity to his fine abode and learn how to spend nights apart from my beloved.
It all sounds so easy when I decorate the blunt depressing reality of the situation with a few f*cking finely crafted sentences. It?s easier to smooth over the bumps and the irregularities than to face the truth.
I am so terrified of the numerous tasks I have yet to complete? I wrote a list. ?A list?? Yes, that?s right. You know it?s an epiphany when you bring out the pen and paper, as instead of some late night, insomniac-esque ruminations about how terribly I have messed up my life, and my dreams of future success and world domination, this plan for change is something that I seriously intend to follow through. But, where have we heard that before?
My frontal lobes still ache from the NOS. My torso is riddled with numerous pains. This chronic cough won?t leave me, as the ecstasy I?ve been taking has left my immune system at an all time low. Basically, my psychological and physiological health has gone down the drain. I was lying awake in bed last night till four in the morning, huddled up in the foetal position, silently crying myself to sleep because I was being plagued by the horrors of my parents divorce, which occurred, let me see, over eight f*cking years ago.
I can?t let myself remain bogged down in the past. I need to hack at those ties to those nagging memories, which won?t let me rest at night.
I?m in a better mood now; I am excited about tomorrow for once in my wretched life. I just hope that my father will take me back and provide me with the support, and my life with the structure, that I so desperately need and crave. Once I no longer feel out of control I should be able to face the demands that each day shall bring. I will work to excel, feel passionate about my education and make some new, non-alcoholic friends. I shall feed off of their normality and maybe pick up a few life lessons along the way.
I believe it is my best shot at sobering up and savouring life.
P.S - Yes, I have read most-almost all of Terry Pratchett's Disc-World series.
After being told by my best friend, who shall remain nameless, that we can no longer remain in contact with each other, as her girl friend found out about our long awaited one night stand (which occurred whilst we were both drunk and on meth? go figure), I proceeded to get myself as smashed, stoned, and asphyxiated as I possibly could, with the help of a few of the substances mentioned above and more. My girl friend actually aided me in this endeavour by taking pity on my poor delusional self and consequently providing me with a carton of cold dry beer and three boxes of NOS canisters. Together we wallowed in my misery, and together we fell; fell victim to our usual enemies.
My malady is not something belonging only to my sad twisted heart in our relationship; it is a shared affliction, a common illness. As such, our addictions bounce back and forth between the two of us, feed off each other and fuel each other. Her suffering equates to a lack of sobriety for myself and my sadness drives her alcoholism. We drink out of sympathy, empathy, love and a common desire to exceed the normal limits of our usual sensory experiences.
But, this shall all change. I can no longer remember names, recognise faces, or recall the nights I once enjoyed oh so much. I fear that my brain may be beginning to resemble a piece of Swiss cheese; it?s full of holes and fermenting.
So, to end this three and a half year bout of self-induced suffering I will move back in with my father, who will hopefully answer my cry for help. To do this I will need to find a new job that is closer in proximity to his fine abode and learn how to spend nights apart from my beloved.
It all sounds so easy when I decorate the blunt depressing reality of the situation with a few f*cking finely crafted sentences. It?s easier to smooth over the bumps and the irregularities than to face the truth.
I am so terrified of the numerous tasks I have yet to complete? I wrote a list. ?A list?? Yes, that?s right. You know it?s an epiphany when you bring out the pen and paper, as instead of some late night, insomniac-esque ruminations about how terribly I have messed up my life, and my dreams of future success and world domination, this plan for change is something that I seriously intend to follow through. But, where have we heard that before?
My frontal lobes still ache from the NOS. My torso is riddled with numerous pains. This chronic cough won?t leave me, as the ecstasy I?ve been taking has left my immune system at an all time low. Basically, my psychological and physiological health has gone down the drain. I was lying awake in bed last night till four in the morning, huddled up in the foetal position, silently crying myself to sleep because I was being plagued by the horrors of my parents divorce, which occurred, let me see, over eight f*cking years ago.
I can?t let myself remain bogged down in the past. I need to hack at those ties to those nagging memories, which won?t let me rest at night.
I?m in a better mood now; I am excited about tomorrow for once in my wretched life. I just hope that my father will take me back and provide me with the support, and my life with the structure, that I so desperately need and crave. Once I no longer feel out of control I should be able to face the demands that each day shall bring. I will work to excel, feel passionate about my education and make some new, non-alcoholic friends. I shall feed off of their normality and maybe pick up a few life lessons along the way.
I believe it is my best shot at sobering up and savouring life.
P.S - Yes, I have read most-almost all of Terry Pratchett's Disc-World series.
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