Sobriety is Incredibly Boring


I woke up, and started my normal routine, minus checking messages. Generally this routine consists of expressing gratitude for being alive, having some water, stretching, and working on projects. I was determined to not scrounge up any mind-altering substances, or drink any alcohol, so I had to stay busy. Blogging takes up a little time, but I can only type for so long before my hands, wrists, arms, and chest (in order) start aching. Part of the reason I drink so much is that I am in a near constant state of pain or discomfort, depending on what day it is; carpal tunnel syndrome is a motherfucker, folks. A numb, tingling, aching motherfucker that refuses to go away without a risky, and incredibly expensive surgery that is not guaranteed to work. Seems easier to just drink the pain away, but today I wasn't going to do that.

So naturally, I dove into my work to try, and keep my mind off everything else. It worked for a while, but eventually all the work either gets done, or you just burn out, and have to stop because you're about to fall asleep in front of your laptop. That's what happened to me at least, I typed until I physically could not do it any longer. I pryed my eyes open long enough to save my work, and shut down the computer. I fought sleep for another hour or so, got bored, and went to bed. It was still daylight for another 3 hours or so, but I didn't care, I just wanted the day to end. This tends to be how sober days go; honestly, it's good they never last long.

I woke up later that night, feeling much better about life in general. Amazing what a little rest can do. I had a snack then bought beer because I realized something about sobriety earlier that day: it's really goddamn boring. All work, and no play will make Jack chase you through the forest with an axe. Or turn you into Jack, one or the other. I sat around with a friend, enjoying some music, and laughs in a smoke-filled room well into the wee hours of the morning. I would attempt sobriety again once I woke up. I mean it every time I say it, I really do.

Like clockwork, I popped out of bed around 10 that morning. It doesn't matter how much sleep I get, I still wake up around the same time. Once again, I did my routine, but I went ahead, and checked my phone this time. Doing my part to get back to some sort of normalcy. Being away for a few days will do wonders for you, trust me. It's like I vanished off the face of the earth for three days. After a few times throwing myself into "semi-exile" I've figured out that one or two days isn't enough; you have to take at least three full days. After this most recent break, I've limited my social media time significantly, and edited the shit out of my Facebook feed. (I mean that literally, and figuratively by the way.) I felt fine, and all, but I didn't even make it to dinner before I was planning to make a purchase. What can I say, folks? Sobriety just doesn't suit me.

Maybe that's okay for me though. I know they say you should be sober, drugs are bad, blah-de-blah-buh-da-blah, but what about "physician, heal thyself"? I guess that's always been my approach simply because it's a hell of a lot cheaper than actual treatment. Why can't I jump into my brain's control panel, and make a few tweaks? It's my brain to tweak after all. Besides, I've always had a curious mind; it's how I learn. I've done well to maintain a fair level of intelligence along the way, so I view what I do as a "no harm, no foul" situation. Why go through the "here, try this" over, and over with doctors when I already know things that can keep me sufficiently numb to life's fuckery?

So that leaves me with another question to ponder: if I can't/won't sober up, can I still beat depression? We're gonna find out together, folks! That's right, you get to read all about my life, and I get to feel all kinds of uncomfortable for putting it out there. It's okay though, I still have my secrets I get to hang onto; I still maintain at least some control over my life. Frankly, that's what it's about with me, and a lot of other people: control. Gaining it, and maintaining it. I might be in a state of mid-functioning depression, but that doesn't mean I just want to give up control of my life to some mental ward. Fuck that shit, I like to at least pretend I'm free. So tonight I will exercise that freedom by getting completely shitfaced, and making music. I know at least the younger me would be in awe.

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