Speak to me like I’m a 5 year old

That’s a reference to Denzel Washington in Philadelphia.

I’m laughing out loud at myself. I can’t even get through a few pages of this little book. Seriously. It’s like a children’s book, and I got through maybe two pages before my mind started wandering. Where does it go? I don’t know because most of the time I can’t remember what I was thinking about. Hell, I can’t remember the movie I watched last night.

I’m seeing a new addiction counselor. We’re sorting through my relapse and figuring out what drinking does for me. Let’s see: It makes me engaged. It makes me tolerant. It makes me feel more loving and connected to others. It makes life more interesting and fun. Fuck. Why wouldn’t I drink?

We talked about not defining myself as an alcoholic, because we don’t know for sure, but working on my “relationship with alcohol.” Uncovering patterns and how they are holding me back. This isn’t new shit that has come to light (Big Lebowski reference), but his approach feels different. He pointed out a pattern to me that I had not realized before. Or I should say, the pattern took a different form for me. 

At the end of the day, I might just need Adderall or something (See above). I mean, what if my lifetime of substance misuse was simply a result of ADD? (My new therapist calls it “intention deficit disorder” because we don’t prioritize and follow our intentions. I like that.) If I discover that that’s it, I will mourn my underachieving, non-committal life. I will mourn NEVER FINISHING ANYTHING. I will mourn what could have been. Because, what a waste! If someone had caught this when I was 16 and obsessing about calories to the point where I had to study for hours and hours more than everyone else ’cause I couldn’t concentrate, my life could have looked very different. I actually WOULD have landed that column in the New York Times, wrote my book of humorous, satirical essays and did the tour thing. Ala David Sedaris.

But alas, my problems were always treated as anxiety. Depression. Addiction. Eating disorders. God, I’m a fucking mess.

With this new counselor, I’m trying something different. Go figure. I don’t know what the result will be, but I’m hopeful I’ll figure this thing out – if I need to be abstinent, and if not, what does it mean to drink? Do I bother with trying to moderate? My gut says no, but we’ll see.

I’m not in danger. So far. Maybe I’m playing with fire. I don’t know. But I’m nothing if not honest with my readers. You are here with me on a journey, and I can’t lie to you. I love you, my readers! I have a subscribe option on my blog now. The idea is to notify you by email when I post. I don’t know if it works, but give it a try. Comment and subscribe.