Alcohol is not a good escape for me.
I've drank more in the last month than the previous 12 months combined. I do this because I hope to escape my own thoughts, and regret.
But despite the best efforts of myself and a few close friends. Here I'm after sampling the entire shooters menu at Newscafe, clear headed enough to write this blog without trouble. One would actually wonder that I might write better completely shit faced drunk. Yet, alcohol doesn't help me to achieve my end goals. Which is unfortunately because it was my last resort.
Even now, after trying everything that I can think off, I can find no solace, no iota of comfort and above all else no escape of my pain. I have tried to keep myself busy, I have tried to numb the pain through the brain numbing act of finishing the entire series of Star Trek: Voyager and most of Enterprise. I thought about just getting on a plane and fly away, I desperately want to run away but where would I go? I have tried everything in my repertoire of pain management and I find no escape from it. I'm not only a prisoner of my own mind. I'm a prisoner without any hope of escape.
What's next? I have no idea, but scarily I contemplated suicide on more than one occasion - the balcony is only 3 stories high and death isn't guaranteed. My life insurance is over 24 months and even if I should throw myself from the building it would still pay out.
Morbid thoughts cloud my thoughts but honestly, I'm too much of a coward - I finally realised that it takes certain amount of conviction, the right amount of bravery to end ones own life and I'm definitely not the type to do so. I often stated that I'm a homicidal not suicidal....but that position is being thrown into doubt.
I just hugged the toilet for better part of 45min and emptied my stomach, I will be sober enough to think this post a bad idea. Yet, despite this, the idea of never ending slumber is appealing and not for the first time I wish for a traffic incident to end it.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Ask No Questions and I Will Tell No Lies
Lately one of the most frustrating things are people constantly asking if I'm "OK" - the answer for a while has been an unconditioned: NO. What surprises and irritates me is the surprise they show when I tell them so.
A master at masking my own emotions - even when I don't want to, my closes friends tell me that to them I'm like an open book; not by my expressions or body language...but by my actions. I can't comment on that one but it seems like they pretty good at figuring me out so I'll take their word for it. So it basically means that for them to ask me if I'm "OK" it generally means that they have figured out that something is wrong and that I'm not all there.
Why the surprise? You didn't expect me to answer you honestly? You expect me to obey some kind of obscure social norm that I can never figure out? Were you just asking out of courtesy?
I'm not OK, I'm bleeding inside. I hate myself like nothing before. Regret eats away at what remains of my shattered heart and I find myself surprised that there is still something there to be eaten away.
Don't ask - I don't want your pity. Nor do I want your condescending remarks and advice. I blame myself enough already so I don't need you to remind me that I fucked up. I will continue to cry myself to sleep in the dark, when emotions overwhelm me during the day, I will find a place to hide until it passes. I will continue to find comfort at the bottom of bottle or in the arms of a stranger and pretend that she is once again in my arms.
I will do all these things secretly so that you don't have to see it and we can all pretend that nothing happened, but I won't lie. If you ask - I will tell you all about the tears while returning from work today and at the same time dream of a traffic incident ending my misery. How these words were written with stubborn tears in the corner of my eyes, drinking what should be one of the finest Single Malt in my possession.
I will tell you all these things - honestly and without reserve...should you ask.
Otherwise, I will live my life the way I remembered before I met her. I will follow the same routine, I will endeavour to continue going to work, gym, and socialize without skipping a beat. All this in hope that some form of normalcy will return to my life, my mind and my heart.
You will find me to be as pleasant company as always (which I understand it to be rather horrible company even in the best of days). But make no mistake - each day only brings new reason for me to hate myself and I find myself driven...toward a destination that is still too dark for me to see.
A master at masking my own emotions - even when I don't want to, my closes friends tell me that to them I'm like an open book; not by my expressions or body language...but by my actions. I can't comment on that one but it seems like they pretty good at figuring me out so I'll take their word for it. So it basically means that for them to ask me if I'm "OK" it generally means that they have figured out that something is wrong and that I'm not all there.
Why the surprise? You didn't expect me to answer you honestly? You expect me to obey some kind of obscure social norm that I can never figure out? Were you just asking out of courtesy?
I'm not OK, I'm bleeding inside. I hate myself like nothing before. Regret eats away at what remains of my shattered heart and I find myself surprised that there is still something there to be eaten away.
Don't ask - I don't want your pity. Nor do I want your condescending remarks and advice. I blame myself enough already so I don't need you to remind me that I fucked up. I will continue to cry myself to sleep in the dark, when emotions overwhelm me during the day, I will find a place to hide until it passes. I will continue to find comfort at the bottom of bottle or in the arms of a stranger and pretend that she is once again in my arms.
I will do all these things secretly so that you don't have to see it and we can all pretend that nothing happened, but I won't lie. If you ask - I will tell you all about the tears while returning from work today and at the same time dream of a traffic incident ending my misery. How these words were written with stubborn tears in the corner of my eyes, drinking what should be one of the finest Single Malt in my possession.
I will tell you all these things - honestly and without reserve...should you ask.
Otherwise, I will live my life the way I remembered before I met her. I will follow the same routine, I will endeavour to continue going to work, gym, and socialize without skipping a beat. All this in hope that some form of normalcy will return to my life, my mind and my heart.
You will find me to be as pleasant company as always (which I understand it to be rather horrible company even in the best of days). But make no mistake - each day only brings new reason for me to hate myself and I find myself driven...toward a destination that is still too dark for me to see.
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