Drunky Drunk Girl

2:40 pm

LIFE WAS/IS BETTER WITH WINE, I’ve concluded.

I’m crying, and I guess it’s to be expected.  I was wondering when it was going to hit me, this sobriety thing.  And on top of it all, I feel lonely in this…thing I’m doing.  Quite lonely.  Lonely in the sense that when I come out of it, I’m not going to be able to relate the experience to others, thereby making me feel even more isolated, more at odds with “normal” people.

Sure, I’ve cried before drinking, during, and after; I’ve cried with booze and without it.  BUT, last night, and today, as I sit here and think back to my oldest friend finally getting hitched this weekend after 15 years of dating, my other oldest best friend expecting her second child, as I read on FB about another writer friend who’s just published a book, all I can do is say, Fuck me, what have I done wrong?

As one of my writer friends here tells me, It’s not a zero sum game.  And I know that.  But, I can’t deny that some days I feel the heat…  Maybe I’m just not good enough?  Maybe I suck at this journalism thing, this writing thing?  When it’s what I’ve built my life on, succeeded in up until now, I have a hard time accepting that, let alone embracing it.  What writer wouldn’t?

If I’m honest, I would sit down and make a list of everything I’ve accomplished in my life, everything I have to be grateful for, and just shut the fuck up about it.  BUT…I can’t help but throw up my hands and scream, I could have written that book!  I could have pitched that story!  But, I’m not doing any of that at the moment.  And I continue to waste what little time I have left (last night was hard; all I could think about was that I’m on the downswing of life, that I’m exiting this game…)…

I used to have wine to calm me down, to help take the sadness away, the edge of insanity off these consuming thoughts.  WHICH ARE TRUTH, and which I CANNOT IGNORE OR PRETEND DON’T EXIST.  Yet, I acknowledge them, don’t I?  They are what make me feel sad and depressed as well as what allow me to justify drinking.  And so, why not?  Why, if I acknowledge them, if I go through the work — a sleepless night, a lonely, weepy afternoon — can’t I drink afterward?

I really want to drink.  Am I simply being too harsh, too black-and-white, too “AA” about it?  Putting myself through this sobriety bullshit when what I really need is to chill the fuck out, have a glass of wine, and be a “normal” 38-year-old?  Normal in that, well, it’s NORMAL to feel like you’re a failure when all your friends are writing books, traveling the globe as intrepid reporters, starting magazines and families and lives; and you’re doing what you perceive to be as nothing.  Right?  I don’t know.

Fuck being sober.  It’s WORSE than being a wino.  …I guess.

Tags: alcoholic, alcoholism, anxiety, binge drinking, cravings, depression, drinking, insomnia, sobriety, wine, women