I haven’t written anything in a bit.
I’m not doing “well”.
My routine has failed me -Or maybe it was me who failed my routine?
I’m either drinking too much or thinking too much. Both are equally debilitating.
If I sit down to write something, I have to confront myself and be honest about what’s going on. Sometimes that’s fucking hard when there’s a bottle of fun liquid that helps me forget whatever it is I’m struggling with.
I don’t necessarily think the booze is addictive, but running away from reality definitely is.
I’m not even drinking that much; I’m just using it wrong. I will drink often enough to temporarily forget my blues and pass the time until the next sunrise, genuinely hoping that tomorrow will magically be different. Like a coward.
I know, obviously that’s not how this works.
I’ve got to grow the fuck up, take responsibility for any negativity, be a fucking man and handle my shit. I’m often far too good at dissociating. Ask anyone who’s ever tried to get a hold of me.
What am I running from? What am I trying so hard to tune out?
I don’t even know. Maybe I’m just generally not fulfilled? I’m not sure, but from what I can gather I have multiple conflicting desires or processes.
- I’m simultaneously lonely and wanting to be left the fuck alone.
- I’m both ambitious and able to check the fuck out for a chunks at a time.
- I am incredibly caring of others and at other times incredibly selfish.
The truth is, I’m not sure what’s next for me. It could go either way.
It feels like I’m on some strange journey trying to find a trail that leads to some life path that guides my way... but I could just be stumbling deeper into the forest of the unknown.
So fucking dramatic.
What do I do next?
My gut tells me I need to get back on a routine that is obsessively healthy and rigorous to live as joyful and as long as possible.
I woke up with a note I wrote on my phone when I was drunk that read:
“This fleshy vessel can be poisoned or prolonged through health and wellness. Neither way has been proved to be better, and in the end it doesn’t really matter, right? So don’t judge others for their poor habits. In fact, fuck you for thinking you know better.”
My drunk self was literally writing to the part of me that is obsessive about routines and health and all that other boring shit.
I don’t know who is right, yet.
I do know that I’m going to write more. A lot of stuff has happened since I last posted here, I’ve got shit to talk about.