Posts Tagged ‘Alcohol’

When I crash, it’s like this leaching hole of nothingness, and then frantic manic activity while I try to claw my way out. It’s cigarettes and beer and sedatives and sex. It’s sneaky and insidious and before I know it, I don’t want to get out of bed, the horses’ shoes are falling off and I don’t know what we’re going to have for dinner again. So much of this is internal, and well-hidden, but it’s seeping out, and people are actually noticing. I can’t hide behind ‘treatment’, or ‘just tired’ anymore, and I don’t want to be like this. No-one believes I’m mentally ill, just traumatised, but when does one melt into the other? Where is this blurred line?

Recovery is yoga, vegetarianism and writing. It’s light and warmth, friends and work. Quiet productivity. I just, I can’t keep this cycle going. I can’t get out of it either. It hurts. I got through cancer and separation and abuse and judgement, but this is fucking my life up. It doesn’t feel fair. Like I’ve said before, there’s no balance, there’s no ‘go through hell now and then things will level out’ trade-off.

I know I could do well at life, on my terms, if I could get out of this. When I’m well, I’m dynamic, I get shit done, I’m bright. When I’m not ok, I systematically destroy that, like knocking down sandcastles at the beach. I fought SO HARD for what we have. I took on someone I love when I wanted to just give in, and say ‘you know what? Have the house. Fucking burn it down’. I fought myself and I fought him. I sold things and took out loans and I neglected myself so my son wouldn’t have to see any more pain.

On the surface, it was worth it.

Dig a little deeper, maybe not.

I love this. When I get what I want, I never want it again.

Ash x

ps – if you like me – #cometothepartycourtneylove I have a significant birthday coming up and I can live in hope 😉

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Everytime I have this thought, I’m going to take the time to acknowledge it, think about it, write it down, and change it.

I don’t want to be an alcoholic.  I’m not one, I don’t think.  I don’t drink everyday. I don’t/ won’t drink in front of my son.

But I feel like I could have the capacity to become one.  Because I tend to rely on alcohol when life is tough.  Sometimes thinking about being able to write myself off Friday night is what gets me through the week, through treatment, through crying myself to sleep, through Craig acting like I don’t exist, through Bailey asking about Daddy.  Through saying goodbye to pets, through not being able to ride AGAIN, through nightmares, through saying goodbye to Bailey.

And I’m so angry at myself.  Because I am smart. I do know better.  I’ve seen the effects of dependency. I really truly believe that drinking is the biggest problem in australian culture.

But it’s so nice to just give myself a break from reality….


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