Posts Tagged ‘identity


the hiatus ends

So much has happened since I last posted here, and I don’t mean this to be an “I’m back” post in the sense that I think anyone was waiting, hitting refresh on their browser, for the next indecipherable load of bollocks I would dump into the webosphere, but I find myself now at a point in my journey worth transmitting, should another wanderer find use for it.  At the moment I cannot go into full detail, but let it suffice for me to say that the accounts of my life and and revelations therein espoused of which I will be documenting shall be more raw, more thoughtful and less narcissistic than was previously the norm here.

I will divulge one piece of the puzzle here for you now, which is that after some personal breakdowns or breakthroughs(or the one necessarily precedes the other), I have sought professional, medical and social therapy.  I am frightened of what is to come, and unsurprisingly, this has emboldened me to share with abandon what it is I feel may lie at the core of my dysfunction.  As always, you are encouraged to trust your own sensibilities where reading my blog is concerned.  If it is difficult to read, remember please that it was also quite difficult to write.  I have been places, done things, which the “average” person might find reprehensible or even disturbing and I do not wish to stir up any psychological traumas lying dormant within you for no good reason.  If you decide to spectate, you do so at your own personal risk.

With all of that said, I look forward to the months ahead.  Maybe we will help each other make sense of the senseless.


insomnia be damned

I’ve decided to no longer prescribe myself alcohol to pass out at night.

I don’t know if I will fill the prescription I got for a sleep aid. I don’t know if I will have the discipline or desire to just get up at the same time every morning to regulate my sleeping pattern, because that would require missing a lot of time with A. I guess I just don’t know what I am going to do, but I know the drinking cure winds up turning into a beast too often for me to let it continue.

It’s a bittersweet moment when you realize something has gone too far, because you simultaneously wish that you could take back all the times when you drank while knowing you shouldn’t, and also wish that you could just go home after work and have a beer.

Well, you can’t. You can’t do either.

This will be an identity struggle in many ways, but I am trying to see it as struggling back to an identity, not away from the one I’ve assumed. I have always had a hard time falling asleep, for as long as I can remember. I can go back to that. I used to hang out late at night without needing to drink. I can go back to that. I used to wake up and know exactly what I had said or done. I can go back to that. I used to love myself enough to enjoy the little things in life.

I can go back to that.

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May 2018
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