aa journal
day 10. new personal best.Â
i still feel like drinking, maybe i donât get cravings consistently throughout the day but itâs at least always in the back of my mind. facing the world without a friendly haze of booze (or weed) is difficult at best and horrifying at worst. itâs been a lot of years since iâve had to live in a stark and clear reality. i can say now that i havenât missed it much. being drunk or high really made the time fly. the days drag. the hours creep. existence is fucking hard.Â
a girl, about whom i still donât know how i feel, said something to me less than 24 hours into my current week and a half of sobriety. she had gotten kind of emotional after we had finished fucking in the back of my shitty ford escort; like the kind of emotional that women get after a good fuck. she was laughing or crying or both at such rapidly changing intervals that i really had a tough time keeping up with her train of thought. at that point, she was still lying to me about her own methamphetamine addiction, i had figured her out within an hour of conversation but let it go, sheâd tell me about it when she wanted to. anyway, she looked over at me and said, frankly, âwhat the fuck is the point of being sober? who cares if youâre an alcoholic? what does it matter?â. i responded quickly, âbecause iâm better than that. iâm worth more than being a worthless drunk.â. even as i said those words that night, i donât think i really believed them but it seemed like a decent thing to say. i believe them a little more now. iâm not sure that iâm worth more than shit, truthfully, but maybe if i keep telling myself that i am worth something it will become true.Â
i oughta figure out if iâm going to (or plan to) get serious about this one girl. i donât think itâs a viable option to just see her once or twice a week without the whole thing becoming more trouble than itâs worth. i better put some thought into this. her brother will be out of jail by mid may and her sister by mid june. not sure iâm trying to deal with the whole family dynamic shift when all that happens. and i think her mother is trying to fuck me. shit. that is so white trash. maybe i should just drop her, itâs not like i really need her for sex anyway. i think the only reason i keep going around her is that certain feeling that i get when iâm in some rundown, shitty traphouse with her. almost every time iâm in one of those places i get (to some degree) an out of body experience. just standing or sitting in those places is like a release. it seems arrogant and vain to say this but fuck it; it makes me feel like iâm living in some kind of documentary or something. i feel like a reporter visiting in on âthe local wildlifeâ, for lack of a better phrase. thereâs something enrapturing about these absolutely fucked up people. is that fucked to say? yeah. thatâs fucked up.Â











