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I’ve Never Been More Confused at 27 Days Sober
And here I thought all I had to do was quit drinking.
I feel like a fraud, and failure in every aspect of life. No kids, no wife, no house, struggling emotions, chaotic love, busted finances, unstable feelings, lost, and yea, I’m sober. I mean, what the fuck? Give me a god damn drink already.
At least when I drank there was a period of a few hours in a day I would have hope, or at least a glimmer of potential, splashed with relief. That’s until the 1am night sweats.
I want to write, but can’t write, and not sure I ever could. I’m living the epitome of a “dry” drunk I imagine. Seems everything is slowly unraveling the last 27 days, and there is no light on the horizon. It’s actually pretty dark.
I’ve ignored just about everything that most seem to handle with ease in life. Is it all an illusion? Oh yea, and I’m 50. It took me since 2012 to get to 27 days sober again, and here I am, more miserable than when I drank. All my distractions, I mean ALL OF THEM, are of no relief any longer. My second “go to” food, disgust me, but I still try and force feed myself to get some relief from this god awful life I choose to stay stuck in.
My mind races, and goes in every which direction but the right one. And if it does, there is a detour to…
