I had it all planned, my relapse picture perfect in my H.D. brain (at times I have surround sound, but i swear i'm not schizophrenic). It was a pre-meditated drunk. I was going to take my winnings from the work that I do and spend it on various potions that the bar keep was able to con cote for me. I was ready to throw my whole sobriety away for a glimpse at entertainment and blurry eye candy. I was planning on going to a bar called The Circle Inn, Stumble Out with intentions on lowering inhibitions. I was going to dress up too. Well dress up in my cleanliest dirty shirt (detergent is ringing the laundry bell). It was either tonight or tomorrow in the Twin Cities were I would wave my white flag to the opposing drink. I was thirsty, tired and upset with the world. I missed people, interesting people who slur interesting things.
There is a saying in the rooms of AA "The one thing you have to change, is everything." There are parts of me that I have trouble letting go of, the same thing happens with my faith, some resentments, and negative first impressions. To be honest with myself, I was lonely and I turned back to my old self. Deceitful and jaded looking for corruption in the interior of a beer troth. If I was to enter the dungeon of my mind and physically enter the liquor domains, I would crave like a vampire at a blood-plasma clinic or a food addict at a unlimited taco bar (i don't exactly no if a food addicts like tacos more then other foods.)
Everything doesn't just become perfect after you quit drinking. Life continues to be painful; dreadful at times. I spend most of my nights here in my bedroom sometimes playing my memories of my past life over and over again. In my remembrance, all the memories are charming, boisterous, and legitimate. But in those dreams I live out the true feelings I was feeling at the time of my use, counterfeit. I love people, I have a few close friends. I have many acquittance's I cherish. There are so many solitary personalities to jaw-chatter with, without focusing on abnormalities about the people. I become very shy and less valiant around people who I am intimidated by, especially those who are drinking (they scare me and I scare them).
I used to tell myself clever jokes like I'm in shape, round is a shape and When I'm around a girl I like I lose my impusivity and have a spine like a jellyfish. I go into my shell like a tortoise being used like a snare drum. I also lessen my esteem by saying "I couldn't get a date off a tombstone." It can be incredibly lonesome being sober. The want to isolate is there, but it's also there when alcohol is consumed. I'm a broken piece of glass in a run down house. The air is thick with contempt and remorse. The hatred I feel against myself at times is more acute than an vegan at a slaughterhouse. I don't want to be stocked with doubt. As I listen to Tom Waits sing "I Don't Want To Grow Up." I agree with the beatnik. But why so glum chum? It's the concept not the situation. It's a Friday night, and I'm free for the weekend.
I'm feeling neglected without the courage to approach the girl I care the most about and muse and woo her because of the fear of rejection. I (Dan) feel that the cowardly lion from "Wizards of Oz" has more courage then me and he's more dexterous and charming then I am (I do think I could take him at a potato sack race though or make a better pine-wood derby car). I have thumbs though lion so take that to your den. I tell myself I should have to initiate the conversation because I'm me (I know it's a bit narcassitic). Some days my ego is bigger than the American deficit (i was going to do a natural disaster in Central America wisecrack but that might punch my meal ticket to Satan's foothold and I don't burn to well.) I should write to Lady Gaga and tell her that I am not a Paper Gangsta but I am impoverished.
Although I feel negatively this witching hour. I was able to hang out with over crazies just like me. We went out to eat and because we are "sick" we were able to clear out an entire section of a restaurant with ease. Recovery is a blast and although I can be shy I feel I am at times the luckiest guy on the planet, Here I am at night writing and listening to music by Paul Stanley, Ace Freely, Gene Simmons, and Peter Chris. I have the girl of my dreams in my thoughts, playing a picture perfect scene of me asking her out and her responded with a yes. There's a standing ovation from the sellout crowd. The cast of Mystery Science Theater has no comment for this portion of the film because "Tom Servo" is crying gumballs. I'm full of merriment and am waiting for some friends to quit drinking someday and join me at the table for discussion of true feelings. I hope you like the reflection that shares the mirror with you.
No comments:
Post a Comment