TheSereneTheif

TL;DR.
My life is spiraling into a cacophony of humbuggery, general ill health and my

staunch refusal to make any lasting change - with a side of cold but then warmed

up perversion. I will be here all my life.


Edit: I just tried to upload this again after six or seven times. Here I go

again, because I need a place to let this out. And my friends are seeing me come

undone, and it's not a pretty sight. ****. After a night of binging, I'll be

unable to string sentences together. I'll text my friends with perfect English

and grammar, but the content of the text I'm sending them is just nonsense. This

is terrifying. I'm on the verge again, of losing my mind, in much more than just

a ...mental... way.. I mean, as something intangible. It's not that I think I'm

just jumbled up because I've put my mind through some gregariously heated.

ludicrously brainless stunts. I fear I've gone and done some real damage. That's

the flipping money maker. If he goes, we all go.



I just wrote out a long get-this-off-my-chest type deal on the mobile page that

didn't post, so I'll have to type it out all again. Well, I'm committing to at

least doing that so that's gotta be worth something.

I had three years, but threw it all away. It got progressively worse, and now

whenever I go out to the bars, I end up smashed and high. I regret. I surmise.


All that ********.



But right now, I'm on the precipice of seeing my hard ass work come to a real

fruition. I don't know, I've just worked a hell of a lot of time, put my best

effort forth, suffered a shitload of panic attacks, a shitlod of lost time, and

now it's starting to pay off. But the fork in the road is too close for that ****

now.


Right now I'm just coming off a day long bender. I can feel my heart pounding in

my chest, my anxiety is making me shake, and my jaw is just beaten to crap.

I just don't know what I had that was so great back then that made me laugh off

any thoughts of drinking. I could walk by a liquor store, get a craving and then

watch my brain and remark 'That's the dumbest idea you've had this week. You'll

go ******* crazy if you do that.' And I do. I don't just have normal benders, but

I guess we've all got our ******* crazy stories.


I don't know. I just don't know how to get back to that spot where I felt like I

ruled the world over my addiction. Now I'm so close to careening over that cliff

again. The first time around, I was jailed for armed robbery, so while in prison

and for a few years afterwards, the reeling sting was fresh in my mind. Those

wounds have closed up, and I've even started to forget about them, or in the

light that I used to think about them. I'm not a prison-type guy, so it was

definitely the top most defining experience of my adulthood.

I make dumb decisions. I drive. I drive fast as all hell. I just don't think

**** through. And I've got more to lose now. After three years, I've built up a

pretty damn successful career, so I don't have to near as far down the rabbit

hole to begin losing all that I've gained. First and foremost is losing my

sanity, though. My capability for rational thought. Not even rational thought. I

have rational thoughts, but I just wave them on by like my conscience is the

enemy. It's like when someone who goes into psychosis thinks that everyone is out

to get them, like I did, and that they are smarter and more in control than the

sane, right minded population trying to talk them down.

The problem mostly started with having a few drinks once a month. Then of course,

you know how it goes. My girlfriend, who lived with me - I just came home from

work one day and all her stuff was gone with a note saying she needed time alone.

I did that to so many women, and that's the first time that a woman has done that

to me. Just chucked me into the garbage with no apparent thought of what I might

think. I would've let her go - just not like that. I still miss her terribly

after six months and wished I'd treated her differently. And better. And not said

things and been more supportive. But I was callus and harsh and unforgiving at

times. Not how my father would have brought me up.

She was the only thing holding these frail knots together and once they came

loose they ripped open the gates of hell. All the terror, anger, guilt, shame,

and everything in between just burst forth like lava. I had no care anymore, and

I still don't I guess. I musn't if I'm being the selfish ***** that stands before

you.

That disease lies in wait without vigilance. I'm a first hand account of that.

Holy hell does it ever lie dormant in whatever conniving, troubled and emotional

parts of my brain it could find. There are so many. It doesn't have to look long.

****.

I'm just so done with this lifestyle. I can't do it anymore because the decision

is quickly coming down to 'my life' or 'that'.

I'm a pretty well-respected musician in my circle, so I often get asked to come

and play. It's expected that we drink, have some pints and generally kick our

shoes off to another hard week of work. Music is such a part of my very

existence. The neck on a guitar is just an extension of my arms by this point,

and giving it up would be so devastating. I need to work around that. Somehow.

Maybe just not going out to bars for the first few months, and getting a support

network together. I don't know. I just know that I can't, CAN'T, make these poor

choices anymore. But lord love me, I still want to get all messed up.

So I'm terrified. I'm terrified that when I die, it's going to be because of a

fatal hangover. I'll die in a pool of my own syphilis (I dont have syphllis), and

it will be uncomfortable. I want to die on my terms, not those that the snotty

little self puke that runs my front lobes dictates. I'm scared to lose my job

over my behavior.. And I work in marketing, so god damnit, I really need to be

aware of the image that I am projecting to those around me. People get fired for

not performing in activities outside of work, because in my line of work, it's a

representation of the entire business. **** I've messed this all up.

I'm terrified I'll lose my car, my job and everything that I've worked so hard to

pull into place in the last three years. A man can do a lot of things in three

years when he puts his mind to it. My typing skills are sort of coherent, so this

is a good sign :P. I'm just all messed up and I need some friends who are in my

corner.

I was charged with armed robbery, and THAT'S what made it stick for that long.

That and a quasi-spiritual experience that brought as close to the universe that

I will ever be in my lifetime. I still remember that feeling right down to

absolute freedom of spirit. **** it was utter bliss. Stone sober. But the armed

robbery - I don't know how I've made it this far in my career without this

stopping me even once (Honestly, I've always just fessed up to it and brought it

out on the table, took responsibility). But those memories have faded over time.

It was certainly, entirely and without a doubt the most defining experience of my

adulthood. I'm not a jail-type. I prefer to walk away from fighting . Those

little moments in there were what kept reminding me that this is where my life

brought me. The mind can so easily forget about things that aren't convenient for

it. - and I am a creature of convenience.

I've got some real love to give, and I can't do it like this. I look inside and

see a genuinely, good person down deep that my father instilled in me. I'm

currently shitting all over that legacy and burying it in a shallow grave, right

over top of my father's. Shite man. Father dead at 42. Uncle on the same side

dead at 42. Both from heart disease and poor lifestyle choices. Another uncle was

a drug addict. The other uncle who is his twin, I haven't a clue. But ****'s not

boding well for me! Those combinations are like a nuclear bomb, carefully wrapped

in an obsessively crafted, ****-You-Very-Much bow. Here ya go dad. Now you've

something to remember me by, yea? I mean, c'mon, any rational human being would

think, wow, I'm 33 already. I should probably start mitigating some of this

damage.



I haven't slept yet. And I doubt I will for a while, so I had to come to get some

support. I don't have any. And it just plain sucks. I grew up a lot of my life

around the recovery community, and it's all been cut out. So I guess I don't feel

like I have anyone in my corner.