Old Post.

Photo on 1-12-16 at 5.21 PM

I guess if there was one word to describe how I’m feeling right now, it would be the word above.

It’s already been two-three days since I drank (and used I guess) and yet I still feel like I’m crawling out of my last episode. But more than feeling like I’m crawling out of my last episode is I’m feeling like I’m crawling out of the way I’ve been living. Especially since I started having more episdoes more frequently over the last few months.

I can’t stop, or help, or wonder when all of this is finally behind me. It seems every time I get ‘better’ I relapse over some shit I can’t help but am so overwhelmed by.

Mainly Tahoe Journal stuff.

My coping mechanisms as of late have be so terrible. I’ll do ok for a week then become so freakin’ overwhelmed by some stress (for instance, two weeks ago was hanging out with Karl’s parents, this last weekend was awkward Journal insecuries) and I’m scared because I basically don’t trust myself to deal with this shit in the future.

But what can I do? I can’t just quit my jobs or give up doing what I love because they also happen to be my biggest triggers.

I don’t know how to go about rewiring my brain. I want to think differently, to respond differently to the voices in my head.

It always starts with a thought. I’ll be like “yup, doing great! Not drinking today!” and then the seedy voice in my head gets triggered and a desperate urge to drink something overcomes me. Sometimes I break. Sometimes I make it through.

Usually, lately, I’ve been breaking.

If I can’t trust myself, then who can trust me? I can’t live like this anymore. The last almost week has been a blur, with today included because I wanted to smoke pot till I forgot.

I’m tired of escaping. I need to face my shit head-on. I need to go deep through my unbearable cravings, through the shit that goes through my brain, and learn how to break through those moments.

They are painful. So, so painful. But that pain is nothing compared to the pain I feel now. The pain of the last three days. The desperation. The loss of meaning in my life, even when I know I have so much to live for. The anxiety.

These are not coping mechanisms. I need to nip this in the bud.

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