feel incredibly self-centered posting this rn, given everything that’s going on in the world around me.
however… today marks day 137 and i can safely say that i have hit that point where i consider myself a dry drunk (a slang expression for a person who no longer drinks, but continues to behave in dysfunctional ways).
this being said, my strength will not waver (because the only way i can make anything shittier, is if i allow myself to drown these thoughts out and then further decide if i want to heighten or suppress what i’m feeling) but y’all, i’m tired of pitting my heart against my brain. i’ve never made it to THIS emotional standpoint without completely running away from it. the weight from the anxiety alone, is suffocating.
so this go-round, i’ve decided it’s finally time to essentially rip all of my skeletons out of the closet, visit the bridges i’ve burned, do the best i can to make amends with the ghosts that i personally harbor as well as former friends that would consider me an afterthought at best… and continue to hope this will all get easier in time.
to cut to the chase — at this point in my recovery, one of the biggest (most excruciating) things i’m supposed to do is make a searching and fearless written moral inventory of myself. to fashion such a list and truly reflect upon a pretty painful past (that i created), has left me exasperated and feeling more alone than i’ve ever felt. to feel this vulnerable, frightened and lonely is pretty indescribable. so goes the saying “you’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”
i’ve never wanted a hug so bad in my life, i’ve never wanted to cry on somebody’s shoulder so bad in my life, i’ve never wished i could apologize to so many people in my life. i’ve never wanted somebody to tell me “it’s going to be alright” so bad in my life. i’ve also learned the hard way that when somebody tells you they’ll be there for you, even when you hit the bottom — is all complete bullshit. i take full responsibility for having been such a selfish dickweed… but at this point, i can’t look you in the eye and honestly profess that i’m “worthy of having a connection” with you or anyone else.
i’m not looking for sympathy or hoping people will come out of the woodwork to give me gold stars for everything i’ve accomplished in the last 137 days… and i know that everyone else has their own problems and that “life happens” but when i started tracing my steps, jotting down a brief personal inventory, i looked around and saw nothing but darkness. i don’t have a “best friend” and i really only have two, maybe three, people that i’ve been able to loosely maintain a long-term friendship with… and it’s painful when you start hurting so much inside and you fully realize you don’t have a friend you can “always call no matter what,” that there’s nowhere to run or hide anymore, and all you have left are some pretty scattered memories of what was, the awareness of everything you fucked up, and lastly, accept the fact that you’re nothing more than an afterthought to the ghosts of people you no longer know.