If I ante up for its game, I’ve already lost. ![]() As with any bully, to engage is to concede. It’s a repetitive, cliched stream of insults, and I sit there and take it, because I must be too weak and stupid to defend myself. If I don’t like myself, it’s because there is nothing in my insignificant mediocrity worth liking. If I am suffering, it’s because I am too sensitive, too weak to handle the harsh truths of the world, which means I deserve to feel bad. It knows all my sore spots and heaps abuse on me whatever I say, do, or think. My interior monologue is a drill sergeant. I suffer from chronic depression and loathe myself a lot of the time, so I was always looking for shortcuts to feeling like a different person. Getting wasted takes a credit line of $10. Transforming your personal core takes years or decades of frustration, persistence, and hard work. It was a shallow sense of belonging, but we weren’t in the position to think deeply about anything. Instead of mentors and collaborators, I had a peer group held together by stories about breaking furniture and vomiting. My creative endeavors were crap, but there’s always an audience for trainwrecks. It’s like a theater group with an edge, or the military without a purpose, or a less obnoxious version of people who watch way too much South Park. Drinking gives you a ready-made group of friends complete with slang, perspectives, and inside jokes to run into the ground. I tried doing stand-up comedy again, but I ended up talking to myself on the subway.Īlcoholism is a dull hobby, but it’s popular. ![]() Now, I have to go out of my way to find things to do, and I often do them alone. And I knew that, under the neon and Christmas lights, watching baseball and sipping watery domestic would be enough to make me feel like my life was worthwhile. When I was drinking, I knew that no matter how humiliating and pointless my work day was, I had somewhere to go at 5 pm. I’m still alive, but I’m not sure who else is. When I stopped drinking, I realized I no longer had anything in common with the people I’d surrounded myself with, and staying in touch with them became depressing. Even internet marketers have stopped checking in on me. But I lost a lot of my thoughtless, stupid confidence, and it turned out that was a crucial part of my charm. I thought I would have an easier time socializing when I could talk without spitting, slurring, and losing my temper. We bonded over how brilliant and hilarious we felt, not how asinine we sounded. Conversation flowed freely and the stakes were low, since we all knew we probably wouldn’t remember most of what was said. When my only real interest was happy hour, I had no problem making new pals. The key to building a social life is to experiment and pursue your interests in public. So, when I was drinking, I had an abundant social life. When I was drinking, the word I used for it was “happy.” People like to be around happy, confident people, especially with the thrill of knowing a scathing rant or crying jag could happen at any time for no reason. I never thought of myself as an alcoholic. When I am sad, I reminisce about a Thanksgiving dinner at Waffle House, dodging bottle rockets in Northwest Indiana, or making out with a friend in a filthy alley as we scouted the right SUV for her to piss on.Įven now, these memories feel warm and fuzzy because I was having fun. I don’t remember much from that era, but a few things stand out. ![]() I don’t want to strap on those rose-colored goggles again, but I’m not doing anyone any favors if I lie and pretend that alcoholism didn’t have its advantages. I keep going with it mostly because I want to get out of where I am. ![]() Recovery is less like the hero’s journey than it is like a car ride through Nebraska with nausea, a headache, and AM radio. The first few months of sobriety are dangerous and challenging, and the first few years aren’t much easier. There’s a reason you don’t see long lines or velvet ropes in front of AA meetings. I thought sobriety would be a fresh, clear-eyed start, but sometimes it feels more like an endless homework assignment. If you know and love an addict, this article is for you.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |