My alcohol is dating my depression. That still leaves me as Single.

There are very specific things that happen to me when I am about to eat a shit storm of emotions. They vary in their severity. The main goal is for them to completely destroy me. Inevitably these emotions will happen. Usually after one microscopic negative thing happens to me. It’s partly because of my depression,  partly my anxiety, and certainly my love-hate relationship with alcohol.

It starts with little tremble in my confidence. Only while I feel like I am on top of the world. As if I finally am headed on the right track. It might be something small someone says to me. Usually it’s inconsequential. I never remember the exact time it happens. I do know how it feels in the days following.

The logical part of my mind says to brush it off, who cares what they think. The depressive side of me thinks that they are right in their judgement of my failures. My anxiety just wants me to hide in any place away from people and drink the most inexpensive beer until I pass out on the floor puking, crying, and convulsing. Then becoming completely vacant.

Then comes the self doubt. I know that what I want is within my grasp because I am a capable and intelligent person. At least intelligent enough to figure out how to get by. What I don’t accept is that I have a part of me that wants my confidence dead. Buried in the back of my mind with the problems I don’t deal with everyday. I think that I look weird. I start to question every word that comes out of my mouth. I wonder if I will ever get it together. How come no one has hired me yet? When was the last time any woman showed any interest in me?

I disassociate myself with the world around me. I always end up deleting my social media because I find it to be a waste of my time and of my attention. Plus, it’s just fake attention that I am looking for in my personal love life. Which is non-existent for an indeterminate amount of time.  I have more important things to focus on.

Things along the lines of, “Why won’t she take me back?”
“Of course she won’t, you are a fucking mess.”
” Why can’t I just get a job and keep it?”
“Who is going to love an ugly red headed guy with a gap in his teeth?” “You never did learn how to play that song on guitar. You really are worthless. You don’t have enough attention to finish one measly song all the way through.”
“How do you expect anyone to love a person who doesn’t stick it through the hard parts?”
“No one will love you if you hate yourself. You are absolutely weak.”
“This is why you will always be alone. You don’t even know how to try.”

Once I am completely engulfed in the flames of self doubt and left to sea, I get comfortable there. I look at the emptiness around me and decide to call it home. There is a certain amount of glory I get from truly being alone and hating myself at such a volume.

I start to like the idea of getting cancer from all of the cigarettes. Why would I quit? I look at the aspirin bottle a little differently every time I go to the bathroom with a bladder full of booze. I finish 5 more beers and then go back and look again. What a ride that could be compared to what nothingness I am doing now. I can’t even afford to meet people. It’s fucking expensive to meet people. I’m broke. This is useless.

The idea of completely succoming to the temptations of easy freedom becomes harder and harder to ignore while I stare into space. I cry. I cry because I miss people. I cry because I wish I didn’t know anyone. I cry because I wish I had more friends. It’s really sickening to look in every direction and find something awful staring right back into your face. Your own idea of worthlessness and being a waste of space.

I tell myself, “No, not tonight. Give it a couple of years and see if you can get yourself together, than you can consider letting go. You still have a dying shot at being floating through with life. Don’t be selfish yet.” This happens after about 2 months of non-stop drinking and smoking.

I talk to all of my friends now. I call all of them that are in my phone. Because I miss them. Also because I really need a distraction, and every single person who answers is becoming a very vital part of my life in those moments. Moments I don’t ever forget, even though we are mostly making small talk. Of course I lie about how I am. I don’t want to be the negative person. “Sorry I haven’t called in months, I can only seem to reach out right before I make a decision to shut off the lights forever.” I only really open up to my best friend and he talks me through a lot of my misery.

He calls me everyday to see what I am up to and to give me a detailed account of his day. I also feel like he calls so that I don’t feel alone. But in the middle of me being a manic depressive drunk, I hang up on our calls. I say really awful things and then call back the next day to apologize and say, “Oh, I was just having one of those nights. ”

Those nights span 24/7 for periods of times lasting weeks to months until I finally flick the switch and set a positive plan out for myself. I stop drinking. I stop smoking. I drink water. I eat healthy. I get comfortable with what is around me. I realize that no one is perfect and I am allowed to be less than where my expectations are. Everything is truly going to be okay. This is good. I am actually good!

I find a job. I work hard and commit myself completely to being available. I don’t complain. I start to get rid of my negative thoughts and listen to music that doesn’t make me feel like dying. I start to change a little part of my personality. Each time this happens I always change and become a better person.

Recently I have actually started to go talk to a counselor. When I have the money. I go regularly. After about 2 months I feel immensely better and like I don’t need help anymore. I am finally on my own two feet. I think I’ll celebrate with a beer. Finally I have it together. I can just enjoy myself again.

And the cycle starts over again. I’m addicted to this cycle.

 

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