Lost In All of Our Vices

I've been on a roller coaster of relapse and recovery since I fell off the wagon last November after four months of sobriety.  Giving into the temptation of pleasure has farther reaching ramifications.  Like most people, I don't have the luxury of going into an inpatient detox facility or even just taking time off of work to dry out.  (Besides, I used up all of my chances years ago.)  Anyway, alcohol withdrawal causes anxiety and makes me emotional, overly tired and uninterested in anything.  As such, it seems easier just to drink again, but then the whole process repeats itself.
 

I've got a week of sobriety under my belt, but—damn the cliché—I just have to take it one day at a time.  I've spent a few hundred dollars pampering myself (mostly with eating out) this past week, but now I need to buckle down and return to my budget and my diet.  I've returned to the gym, and I'll just have to see how it goes.  I'm so tired of chemicals causing up and downs in my mood, though I'm not quite ready to let caffeine go; however, it's next on my list in a week or two.

How Am I Going To Be an Optimist About This?

My new favorite song is "Pompeii" by Bastille.  I honestly don't know what the singer is trying to say exactly, but the lyrics remind me of a sort of "feeling out of time" thought I described in a previous post.  You can see the official YouTube video below.

May the Road Rise with You

Anger may be an energy, but I feel as if I am constantly consumed by rage over everything in my life, real and imagined.  It seems only a matter of time before I have a road rage incident or a meltdown at work.  I've swallowed too much negativity in my life without dealing with it properly, and it's left its mark on my psyche.  Last night I grew enraged over the actions of a character in an audiobook, and I got so angry at being unavoidably late for my A.A. group's potluck that I almost decided to cast off my sobriety.  One benefit that I'm hoping for from an even keel of diet, exercise and sobriety is a better handle on my mood in general and anger in specific.

Luke Skywalker:  How am I to know the good side from the bad?

Master Yoda:  You will know when you are calm, at peace.  Passive.  A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.
{The Empire Strikes Back}

Adiós, Carro...

The strain of familial and workplace stress finally got to me and caused me to break my sobriety last Friday night, though I suppose I should say that I chose to break my sobriety as a way of taking personal responsibility.  Regardless, there goes four months of sobriety down the U-bend.  I finally just said "fuck it" and drank and smoked and played my video games.  I spent all day Saturday in bed (with a wicked hangover) being too depressed to get up until 6 p.m.  I didn't stay up very long before going back to bed.  Sunday I managed to drag myself out of bed sometime around noon and then ran around doing a lot of dreary chores.

 

The real problem is that my relapse has returned my thirst, which continued sobriety had kept at bay, and now I want to take refuge from my feelings and worries by running to the shelter of mother's beer and hard cider.  For example, today I can find little enthusiasm for being any kind of responsible adult and can hear the voice of temptation whispering in my ear...

Less Than Zero (Assuming 0 = 250)

On a more positive note, I have gotten my weight back down below 250 pounds.  I bit the bullet and weighed myself the other day.  My previous histrionics aside, my dragging myself out of bed at 6 a.m. hasn't been totally in vain.  I've added some strength training, which I hate, but the best way to get into shape is to do both cardio and weights.

Don't Ask Me Why

I had a total breakdown in my mood this afternoon.  I was actually crying on the drive home from work.  I had all but given up on my sobriety and then, inevitably, was shadowed by darker impulses that haunt me still.

 

When I used to share these moods with others, they invariably asked "Why?" and "What's wrong?"  But those questions rarely have any meaning for me.  That's the problem.  I have to constantly distract myself in order to see life as anything but unmitigated suffering—for myself and every other living thing, and my mood is constantly in danger of drowning in a sea of emotion.  It's no wonder I have the personality of an impulsive, insatiable addict.  I must constantly infuse my psyche with hits of pleasure to keep from disintegrating into worry and despair.  I run around in a constant, desperate flurry of effort to pique my interest and find enjoyment in something, anything.  Besides, it's not as if you have to look very far for things to make you unhappy, with all the indignities of life and the ceaseless burden of conscious existence.

 

Personal Roundup

 

I am frustrated by my attempts at weight loss.  I've been doing all the right things as far as my exercise program, but I wonder if I undo it all at the 11th hour with my evening binge eating.  I'm not sure if I've lost weight; I'm too scared to weigh myself.  If the scales tell me I'm just the same after almost three weeks of intensive effort, I'm pretty sure I'd give up completely.  When I look in the mirror, all I see is literally a disgusting sack of fat.  It hasn't given me hope that my hard work is being rewarded by positive change.

Mr. Roboto

"I just work here.  This is just a job."

 

This is the second week of implementing my new policy of keeping my private life out of work.  The more I think about it, the more convinced I am of my error in using my job as a social outlet.  So I've been strictly "all business" while going about my day.  I'm not a dickhole about it or anything.  I'm still polite and friendly and say pleasantries like, "Good morning."  But I don't initiate personal conversation, and I self-disclose very little or not at all.  I'm not even sure anyone's noticed, which is just fine by me.  {Redacted}, and I have made brief small talk when initiated by someone else so as not to be rude.  But I mostly keep my eyes open and my mouth shut.

Personal Roundup

I've been doing fantastic with my exercise regime and pretty good with everything else.  My eating has been flawless during the day, but then I freak out and eat everything I can fit in my mouth at night.  The time change and early dark is really hard on me.  I've been feeling low when I get home, so I eat to fill my time and the hole in my heart.  I've also spent money I shouldn't have on non-necessities, but I've managed to keep a closer eye on my finances.  I've planned out a budget to carry me through the end of the year and January of next, factoring in all the expenses for the upcoming holidays.

Just Won't Die

{Redacted.}

 

The whole situation has stressed me out to know end.  I'm feeling some distance with my family, and I don't really feel there's anyone I can call to commiserate with.  I spent the entire weekend busting my hump trying to clean up my apartment to make my environment more conducive to positive change on top of continuing to hit the gym Saturday, Sunday and today before work.  I gave serious thought about breaking my sobriety today.  I thought about doing worse.  But it would just be "I'll show you!" acting out, and I'm better than that.  As it is, I'm going to take my meds and just go to bed.

All In the Family

There's nothing like family to make one's barely-contained neuroses spill over the sides.  I'm amazed at how such a short interaction can awaken so many dormant unresolved feelings.  It's no wonder to me that I'm grinding my teeth down to stubs in my sleep.  Basically, I'm annoyed with every single person I'm related to, but that's what unconditional love gets you.  I love my family, and I'm incredibly blessed to have them in my life.  But the fissures in our relationships run deep, and it's not always easy to keep the proper perspective.

 

Shake That Booty

 

I've managed to get myself to the gym five times out of the last six days, which is like working out twice a day for a year for a normal person.  Considering how poorly I treat my body, I have surprisingly unrealistic expectations of my workouts.  If I stick to my diet and exercise for a couple of days, I expect to see Hugh Jackman staring out at me from the mirror and am continually shocked to see Jabba the Hutt instead.

Blabby McOvershare

{Redacted.}

 

Looking to Myself

 

One of the most valuable things I learned in therapy was that I have no control over people's opinions or reactions.  The only thing I can control is my behavior.  Because I'm socially isolated and just plain lonely, I think I have made the mistake of trying to fulfill my need for social connection at my place of employment.  With someone like me, that is asking for trouble.  I'm going to try very hard to switch off my personality at work and adopt an entirely neutral persona.  Always polite, always friendly, always helpful, but never revealing anything but superficial charm.  In my private world, I am focused on moving my life in a more positive direction, and I should keep chanting my professionalism for poets mantra in my head:  "I just work here.  This is just a job."

The State of Things

All in all, I'm doing well as well as doing (or not doing) all the right things.  I just wish my mood weren't so consistently in the toilet, but such is my lot in life.

 

Hell Is Other People

 

I find that most of my problems are caused by other people.  I am unable to talk to my family in any meaningful way about my life, and I really don't have many close friends.  Besides, a lifetime of intense, unfulfilled desire has turned my emotional need into a hole with no bottom.  Just ask the friends I've "worn out" over the years.  So I pretty much try to keep things to myself.

 

The problem with that strategy is that my need to connect and to talk out my feelings overwhelms my conversations during the normal course of my day, particularly at work.  This invariably leads to regret and the wish that I'd just kept my mouth shut.  So I think maybe I'll process things on this blog and return to holding my tongue in my interpersonal interactions, hence my return to the blogosphere.

 

Today's Drama

 

{Redacted.}

Personal Roundup

I'm doing really well compared to last time, except for my spiraling debt, obviously.  When I'm drinking, I rack up expenses indulging my vices, but when I'm sober, I rack up expenses indulging my nickel-and-dime whims to keep my sobriety intact.  Now that sobriety has become somewhat habitual, I'm trying very hard to tackle my debt.

Days Sober: 105 {+97}
Weight: 252 pounds {-10}
Debt: $13,957 {+5,085}

First World Problems

Part of the negative chatter that reverberates in my head, particularly when I'm trying to improve myself, is a feeling of guilt for being absorbed in my own problems when I have lived such a charmed life compared to 99.9% of humanity.

 

Working downtown, I see people trapped in the misery of their lives every day.  It's tempting to believe that everyone has the resources to make the most out of their lives if only they would apply themselves, but I have less and less faith in that proposition.  How many of these poor souls walking around grew up in an intact home with loving parents willing to rescue and assist them whenever life turned sour?  I am one of the lucky few to have that, which is why I feel guilty about my failure to thrive.

Wallowing in self-pity isn't helpful or productive, and we should always be mindful (and thankful) for the blessings in our lives.  But failing to spend the energy to improve myself doesn't help anybody less fortunate than myself in any way.  And one of the greatest things I ever learned in therapy is that I can't assist anyone else until I'm in a stable position myself.  We all have to live our lives within the context we find ourselves in.  We all have to tend to our own needs with the tools and resources we have at our disposal while hopefully being kind and generous and open in our daily interpersonal interactions.

Shy Little Bunny

I don’t actually have anybody to talk to, so here I am.

I’ve been so good, but it’s been so hard. I just feel so tired and unhappy all of the time.  And yet I haven’t had a drink since July 8th, and I’ve been trying to eat better (not great, but better) and take a bit of exercise. All of this while holding down a demanding job and dealing with a never-ending stream of family drama.

Every single day of my sobriety, I’ve said, “Fuck it! I’m going to drink.”  Being constantly dysthymic means that stealing moments of pleasure by drinking, smoking and playing my video games is an almost irresistible siren's song.  I want to indulge myself, but I'm actually holding out for a longer-term payoff.  I've even superstitiously kept the beer bottles and used ashtray from my last drinking session around because I didn't want to dramatically clear them away, only to fall right back into my pattern of usage, as I've done so many times before.  Of course, any attempt at making better choices ramps up the negative chatter in my head to the point where I'm constantly on the verge of a panic attack at the inevitability of death.

My Game Pausing Strategy

I can't even be a simple drunk without being a complete freak about it.  All summer I've been drinking several times a week while playing the first two Mass Effect video games, but I have to carefully co-ordinate my alcohol and my gameplay so that I have enough of each and my progress of inebriation matches my progress in the game.  (By the end of the night I'm too drunk to follow and process what's going on in the game.)

Anyway, right now I'm at the endgame for Mass Effect 2, which is longer than the regular missions without any convenient pauses where I can save and stop.  Since this disrupts my normal drinking pattern, I've used it to disrupt my drinking itself.  I know it all sounds kind of weird, but I'm a weird guy.  The point is that it's been working for me.  Since July 8th, I've actually been in the grocery store with my hand on beer and have been able to talk myself down from giving in.

The problem is that I've been excited about the prospect of diving into Mass Effect 3.  You have to understand that, given my psychological problems, being enthusiastic about anything in my life—even something as irrelevant as a video game—is absolutely intoxicating to me, if you’ll pardon the expression.  But I'm afraid that if I get back into the normal rhythm of a new video game, I'll end up falling back into the rhythm of drinking.  I'm probably going to have to hold off on the pleasures of Mass Effect 3 so that I can hold on to my sobriety.