My Self-Indulgent Aftershock Post

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. I haven’t been doing so great. I hate to use it as an excuse (because it’s really the truth), but my cousin’s death hit me much harder than I ever could have imagined. It has reverberated into my daily existence in ways that have taken me quite by surprise. Life continues as usual, for the most part, but it also doesn’t. I don’t know how to explain it but to say: if you know what I’m talking about, you already know what I’m talking about and if you don’t, you inevitably will someday.

I have basically been living off of a diet of coffee and sugar for the past…however long it’s been. Lots of coffee. Lots of sugar. And not much of anything else. Sugar is probably the one thing worse on my system than gluten; it makes me irritable and antsy, yet fatigued and tender all at the same time. The lack of important nutrients in my system doesn’t help. I have gained some weight but I find myself too down to care much. I haven’t stepped on my scale in ages, not out of concern as much as laziness. I am literally too lazy to move the scale from out underneath of my sink. Lazy or tired. Whichever it is. I’m certain I am truly *addicted* to the sugar coursing through my body at this point. When I go on binges where it’s all I eat, I need it first thing in the morning or I will feel a headache coming on almost instantly. My current coffee intake contributes to this as well. I think part of me has been  eating like this simply because I do not want to go through the withdrawals that are awaiting me when I do.

I am struggling with my sobriety…very much. Very much, right now I am struggling. Probably more so than I have at all in the past 3 years. I tease myself at the grocery store and browse the alchocol isle (an isle I normally avoid like the plague). I have picked up and put back non-alcoholic wine bottles multiple times; I know they are harmless but they would certainly be a slippery slope for me in my current state of mind. I see strangers and think, “I could fuck them and no one would have to know. I could share a bottle of whiskey with them, go to some strange apartment with them, let them do whatever they want to me, even if I didn’t like how it felt- and no one would ever know.”

Then, I get angry with myself. Am I really more concerned about the appearance of my sobriety than my actual sobriety? The appearance of being grown up, mature, enlightened, fixed? No. I care about my sobriety. I am proud of my sobriety. It is one of the very few things in my life I am proud of. But there are times when it seems like such a lonely path. This is why people go to meetings, I suppose. To meet other people like them so they don’t feel like the polka-dotted zebra at the zoo

I know much of this stems from feeling like I am constantly losing in my struggle for stability. I was ready to throw in the towel on Fresno, right when a few job opportunities turned up. I am doing them now, but I do not enjoy them- I rather dislike them, in fact. I wonder what am I still doing here. What am I looking for? I wonder if I am just one of those people who will have to fight hard and diligently all my life to see the positive, to feel the sunshine. There are plenty of times when I am up for that fight. I think I often make my life’s purpose that fight. But lately, I just don’t have the energy to keep waving my sword. I just want to take a nap on the grass while the battle continues around me.

At least I know this is temporary, but I felt it worth verbalizing. I’ll be up to sea-level soon. I am sure of it. I am also seeing my therapist tomorrow and she always helps give some perspective.

I will try to post again soon. Something brighter, I promise.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 22 other followers