January 2nd, 2014

I’m a Self-Destructive Nightmare, and I don’t know where my off switch is.

It seems almost religious how often I break old habits only to cultivate an even stronger, more lethal habit. Smoking turns to drinking turns to investing old, broken energy into people that I shouldn’t. And I used to blame everyone else for my falling. How selfish of me.

I had this idea that bringing in the New Year would involve a rebirthing of my purer self. That the old habits would die alongside the old year, that I wouldn’t be taking any destructive part of myself into my chance at a new beginning; how foolish of me to think that time erases problems.

My unhappiness runs so much deeper than the bottles of alcohol I drown myself in. I’m a wounded bird, but it’s all so selfishly inflicted. I used to pride myself on being “big-hearted” and mindful of others. I kept telling myself that I needed to focus on me, which is true to an extent. But in doing so, I focused on the bitter, hardened parts of me and inevitably shut out a lot of people that I love.

Gathering the courage to write this has taken me months. My insides have probably quite literally twisted themselves into a tortured fit, wanting to feel a sense of relief. Knowing you have to break up with yourself is the hardest thing I think anyone has to face. I am all I have known, and yet I am also my biggest fucking nightmare and source of pain.

Alcoholism runs rampant in my family. I’ve been self-medicating with various forms of liquor since as long as I ventured down the rabbit hole of drinking. A bad night was deserving of a glass of wine. And as long as I didn’t talk about how much I was drinking, how often I needed it, it wasn’t a problem. I could go without a drink, I was sure of that.

But the times that I did drink were either my way of experiencing emotion or escaping it. If I wanted to feel something, I drank. If the feelings were too overwhelming, I drank to not feel anymore. The only relationship that I feel I can count on has been the one between me and the bottle. And clearly, that hasn’t been working for me.

Ironic that as I am typing this, I’m supposed to be getting a happy hour drink with a friend tonight.

How do you seek help from your demons when the demon is you?

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