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Day 2 of Sobriety

12.21.2014

*Don't expect a new post every day. This writing spree is mostly therapeutic and posting publicly allows me to partially free myself from my pain. 

This is day two of this journey. I cried myself to sleep last night. I was angry and sad and tired and thirsty, and those sleeping pills just weren't cutting it. I wondered about the silence of those around me. When I was younger, I used to communicate with those strange people we call “friends” almost daily. As I age, the phone calls are almost non-existent. The texts come less frequently. I look through my phone log and the person I've communicated with the most these past couple of weeks is someone I’m annoyed with right now. What is this age thing? Everyone’s with their lovers, parents, and children, and I'm lamenting while sipping hot tea. I’m angry at my friends for not checking in. I often wonder how they’d react if I just disappeared—fell off the face of the earth. I’m trying that deactivating Facebook thing again. I got off Instagram, and am purely on twitter to keep up with the latest news of the burgeoning protests across the country. I haven’t been tempted yet by alcohol. I’m perfectly content now, but it’s been less than 48 hours. I am encouraged, though, empowered by my decision to dump a really nice bottle of Cab down the drain. Was that courage or was that fear? Could I not survive in the same room as my poison? Today, I've been trying to pinpoint why I loved drinking so much. I think part of it was that alcohol allowed me to relax in the company of others. Firstly, I’m an introvert and in many social situations, I've consumed alcohol as a survival technique. Secondly, alcohol gave me an escape from my sometimes somber reality. I’m often alone, by choice and by circumstance. Alcohol is like a friend—another person in the room to keep you company. It’s like playing the TV for background noise. Finally, alcohol has been a part of some of my most breathtaking musical and poetic creations. I've had other-worldly creative experiences and writing sessions under the influence. It's like, I reach another level of intellectual freedom when inebriated. I will miss that, I suppose, but I guess that means I’ll just have to tap into another part of my being. I've also been avoiding TV too. I’m in dire need of true alone time, peace, and quiet, so that I can be as close to God as possible.  I don’t know where this entry is going, and there's a headache slowly creeping in. I think I’ll take a nap. 

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