Tick tock, tick tock, what’s in the fridge tonight?

14 Jun

Nothing.  There is absolutely no booze in the place that I can drink.  (The girl I’m subleasing my place from has a few bottles, but I’ve already downed four of hers, which totals *at least* 50 bucks, so I’m considering the remaining stash off limits).  Really, though, it’s OK.  I don’t have the energy to drink.  In fact, I almost feel…*too depressed* to drink.  Huh?, say you.  Like, even I’m not sure how that’s possible.

For me, drinking after a day of work *or* play, especially if I feel tired, sad, or excited, even, has felt for the past several years almost…a necessary end, or piece, or part of a “complete” day.  It’s habitual, ritual, my way of making a concerted effort to “make the best” of the day.  If I skip the wine, then somehow, I’ve given up on making things better when I feel sad and anxious *or* celebrating when I feel happy or glad for my day’s accomplishments.  It’s all so fucked up that even I wonder which end is up most of the time.

Tonight, I’m depressed.  I feel spun, I feel unwound.  Drinking would definitely fix one or the other or both.

Tonight, I’m thinking again about my own mortality.  Isn’t it better to contemplate your death, in stark reality (not just something that might happen, but the honest-to-goodness cessation of your heart, your lungs, your brain), *now* rather than 35 years from now?  And, by God, in 20 or so years I’ll be 60 years old!?  How could I *not* feel anxious, or at least mentally vexed, by this…concept that will, day by day and year by year, become an absolute reality?  How could I *not* feel sad, truly mournful, of my friends’ certain passing, of my parents’, my brothers’, my own?  How little time we have, and what happens after?  What happens not only after we die but to the living, the remaining, who have become so attached that it’s literally unbearable to live without these people?

See.  This is fucking why I drink.  And, I’m not sure if it’ll get better, as in, I’ll gravitate more toward positive thoughts than negative the further on I get in sobriety, but I sure to fuck hope so.  Right now, all I want to do is take a deep breath, sigh, and go to sleep for a long time.  Which makes me feel even more depressed.

Sit, I must.  Wait, I shall.  What else is there to do?

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