I have been seeing a therapist in regards to my drinking. He is an addict and has been sober for 11 years. 11 years seems like such an uphill battle but any who he has been sober for 11 years. I found him one morning in November after a raging drunk fest of a Thanksgiving where i ended up in bed with 2 of my friends that are married (in my defense they are swingers and I knew all about it but I believe what goes on between married adults is none of my business). UGH!!!! and to say this is the least of my faux pas makes me want to crawl into a hole and die. I woke up that morning, feeling like absolute garbage, and got on my computer and googled help. At this point i knew there was no way I was going to get out of this by myself for christ sake i just had a three way with my married friends that I don’t even remember. My handling of my drinking was not working. He surprisingly emailed me an hour after I sent out my white flag and I scheduled an appointment for Monday.
I have never really liked therapy. I don’t like talking about myself and I definently don’t enjoy delving into my life history but this was kind of my last shot. I mentioned this before but I felt that I didn’t want to die but I really didn’t want to be alive anymore. I mean what was the point. I regretted almost every day of my life waking up disoriented and miserable with nothing to look forward to and no real goals in life. I felt like i was just a feather floating along and whatever i fell on I would accept as my fate and then when the wind picked up again I would float off to another random spot and hang out there all the while damning my life as a feather that has no control over the wind.
i felt helpless like I was in a constant free fall in a shit factory. At that time I didnt understand that i am the wind and my life is the feather and i can blow it which ever way i want to. In some ways I credit the happenings of Thanksgiving for finally making me reach a bottom. It wasn’t a sleeping outside under a tree with two cents to my name bottom but it was a moral bottom that I had no choice but to look at and tell myself its time to fucking cut this shit out. I am not a victim of circumstance. I was choosing every time to step foot into the liquor store and i was choosing every time to down more alcohol knowing damn well what was going to come out of it all while saying poor me I wish i had a choice in the matter of my life.
Maybe it takes finally getting tired of believing your own shit that helps you make the break. i am not a victim, I am not weak and I AM CERTAINLY NOT A VICTIM OF MY CIRCUMSTANCE.
I am truly done living the same sad small life