Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Grabbing at Straws

Clever, eh? The title of this blog describes drinking for me now.

Let's placate my ego for a paragraph. 8 alcohol arrests. 15 years of drinking. 4 fights...about 12 near misses, fight wise...2 totaled cars...countless great moments...and double that in scary awful nights.

Let's be real.

I am a huge fan of alcohol and drugs. I am the Charles Barkley of drugs. Big fan...just can't play the sport anymore.

Yay for me. I haven't done hardcore shit (aka heroin) for a long time. But yet, I'll drink after work like I can do it normally. Guess what? I can't.

I came to San Antonio to get away from drugs. That makes my friends here laugh, but hey, I don't have contacts here. And seriously...White guys in their late 30's can't just wander around going, "Hey, do you have the drugs?" here.

But you can drink, can't you?

I went to Austin last week for two days. I visited the bars I wanted to, did a show, and hung out with good friends.

Some of these friends bought me alot of drinks upon my request. God bless them for pretending I was the same guy from 2005-6. Turns out I'm not.

I'm not going back to Austin. Not to avoid drug dealers...although I couldn't find them if I wanted to. Seriously...I used to buy junk on east 6th...but dealers have been replaced by white hipsters. Weird, man.

Not going back to Austin until I get sobriety in check. If you ask any friend of mine about the worst they've seen me, they'll tell you about the dark time I was a shadow...a junkie...a leech on anyone that came around me. And thanks to Lifetime Recovery and people who truly love me, I pulled out of that life that almost killed me 4 times.

But if you analyze shit right...I have never been arrested for drugs. 3 DWI's. 5 PI's. Heroin may have destroyed my job and relationship in 2010, but alcohol bumped and setted that shit way beforehand.

I forgot that this past year. I slipped...started getting drunk like a "normal person" again...sure, they don't have syringes on display at Valero, so it's easy to avoid that demon...but man, ain't beer great after a hard day?

Tonight was the last straw. That really sucks because technically last Monday should have been the last straw. Last Monday I saw all my Austin friends for the last time, and wow...they got to see me...they got to see me be self-centered, drunk and douchebag-ish. (I'm sorry Steph, Tim, Roger and especially Jen)

Even posting this blog is dangerous to my probation, but I've already told my p.o. about shit...and as much as the truth hurts...it's better than to continually lie to yourself.

A week ago today my friend blasted me with truth. It was not anything that I already knew...no revelation...but it sucked because someone else other that myself knew it. "Hey, you sucked and you know it." Fuck.

A week later...Doing great, then I decide to dabble...and I discovered something.

I am emotionally detatched. I used to think I drink because of boredom, but I actually drink to avoid any possibility of experiencing feelings because past heartache may arise and I'm avoiding pain.

That's just my intro to psych analysis.

So tonight...I say goodbye Jameson...I say goodbye Lone Star...goodbye Irish Carbomb, you inappropriately titled motherfucker. I'm done, assholes. Otherwise, my friends will organize pallbearers instead of bar friends for a half-assed intervention. Oh, and seriously...You guys really should stop worrying about me and then have a shot. That's fucked up. Hahahahaha...

Goodbye booze. See you when I see you.

"I'm down on the upside now. Turning back around..."