2013 was supposed to be my year. I dried out over my 2012 Christmas vacation with the intention of hitting 1/1/2013 running. Unfortunately, my momentum didn't last long.
I'm unhappy most of the time. I'm not trying to be a sad sack, and that's not a plea for sympathy. It's a simple statement of fact and in line with the monstrously random and indifferent nature of existence. Even on a good day, I have to devote an inordinate amount of energy to staving off depression and anxiety and keeping my mood above water. Most days are not good days as I am a powerless, unfulfilled white-collar serf with no passion for anything in life.
The point of all this is explaining why I drink. An evening of drinking, smoking and playing some video game is the only outlet of pleasure I can come up with. All the self-destruction seems worth it for that small window of happiness and enjoyment. Also, I can only ever care about how I feel right now. Present self-discipline and denial in the hopes of some vague future payoff rarely has any traction with me.
The Story Up Till Now
I've been drinking regularly for the past several weeks and months. I drank last Wednesday night. I didn't drink the next night (as I can usually hold my resolve for 24 hours), but I still stayed up too late. I was exhausted all the next day at work. I calculated that my personal excesses and the resulting lack of concentration and focus at my job has put me 25 hours short of the billable hours I should have for April. (That is very bad.) Anyway, I had planned to drink Friday night; I was even in the store after work to buy beer. But I managed to walk away. I wish I could claim some kind of steely determination or insight. The fact of the matter was that I was too fatigued to even muster any enthusiasm for getting wasted. I went home, fed the cat and went to bed.
Saturday and today I moved forward with tepid resolve, starting by actually getting out of bed before 8:00 at night. (I've spent I don't know how many of the past weekends entirely in bed.) I've done some cleaning and took two garbage bags of beer bottles to recycling. I've done some stuff for work, though nowhere near what I needed. Frankly I'm pessimistic, but there is "nothing better" for me to do.
Personal Roundup
My sobriety stands on the edge of a knife, my body is a disaster, and my livelihood is in peril.