Monday, January 25, 2016


It's been a week with no alcohol.  I feel fine.

I can't focus on something to write, though... I started sentence after sentence and I realized that none of them were sufficient in expressing what is whirling through my mind...  And there are things I can't write, guess...

I broke the habit of drinking which was an attempt "stop feeling sad," or to block the sadness.  Of course we all know that alcohol only makes you feel more sad.

I wrote a lot when I was sad, didn't I?  It was a different kind of sad, though... different than what I was escaping by drinking in the first place.  It was a shallow sadness, a numb sadness, a tearful sadness sometimes, but my thoughts were sedated, and couldn't really think...  The thinking, really thinking and being completely aware of what is truly sad... that's hard to handle.

I want to be healthy, and yet, part of me wants to be numb, and not think so much.  I can control how I show my emotions when I don't drink, when I am sober, and "healthy," but I can't control how I feel.  And sometimes I don't want to feel that deeply.  Honestly, I didn't want to feel deeply for 5 years, really, about the things that were hurting.  

I was never an alcoholic, but I did become dependent on the escape, or the promise of escape, which often never really came... every time, I believed it would sweep me away, sweetly, into a better place in my mind. I believed my heart would suddenly not be broken, or be filled in, the huge gash would fill in and it would be held together, and I could breathe, and... things would feel something else...

Ah, I knew better.  

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