Sunday, September 21, 2008

Ruining my life.

I don’t understand why.  It’s 721, and I’m on the prowl for a bottle of whiskey.  I drink half a liter and wake up fuzzy, needing to puke.  What. The. Fuck.  So, I quit again.  I need to quit for long enough to make it stick.  I need to be able to wait it out until things become normal.
When I’m not drinking, all I can see is how every situation warrants getting drunk.  I think ahead to being in Key West where you can walk around with an open beer, and get $1 Yuenlings and free sandwiches.  I think ahead to my birthday. Birthday Boy is drunk. I think ahead to an endless list of situations, all of which call for being drunk.  I think of owning land and sitting in a chair getting drunk every night.  And having a dog.
I don’t sleep well when I don’t drink.  My mood suffers, and time becomes long and slow. I get increasingly self-critical and uneasy.
Well, fuck.  I quit again.  A lucky customer at the Wal-Mart in Bismarck will find the other half of my whiskey by the cart return.  I’ve poured gallons of liquor down sinks and into bushes.
How the fuck did I end up drunk again?  I made a decision, life became easier in a way, and I went well out of my way to fuck it up.  I’m glad I puked a lot.  That really helps put things in perspective.  I just want everything to become sober and normal again.  It’s a can of worms that I wish I’d left shut.  You don’t crave alcohol if you’ve never had it.  I was like that at one point, and happy as all fuck.  Now I just feel fucked.  It’s definitely the God damned wheel.  I’m relieved that I quit again.  We’ll see if it takes.

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