2002-03-15

...

Sobriety continues to be the Big Challenge of late. It's the hardest thing I've ever done. Harder than graduate school, harder than planning my wedding, harder than root canal. Hard.

One has to understand that Drinking was once something I did really, really well. I took an almost perverse pride in the fact that I could drink a full pint of Jack Daniels in the course of one evening and still rock out, still hold my own in a room full of vibrant, amazing people. I would be lying my ass off if I said that for a good, long time, Drinking did not make me into the person I always wanted to be. Somewhere along the line, though, it all horribly backfired.

I remember the first time I started to seriously ponder the fact that I had crossed the line. I was bobbing and weaving on the bus after a rehearsal and thinking, "Fuck. Something is seriously wrong here." But I managed to convince myself that I wasn't addicted, I was just constantly drinking. Gainfully employed, active member of the Boston Rawk Scene. No alkies here, no sir.

It's when I started drinking alone that everything caved in on my head. I'm not talking about cracking open a beer and going through the mail in the evening, either.

I could go into the full horror story of Just How Bad My Drinking Got, but I'll spare you. I've never wanted this diary to be a wrist-to-forehead kind of thing. Everybody's got their problems, their panic attacks and bipolarity and disorders-du-jour, and I've frankly never been a big fan of diaries that beat that kind of spastic ennui over your head. I spent most of my twenties mercilessly flogging that hobby horse in front of anyone who would watch, and I speak from experience when I say that eventually everyone gets real sick of hearing about it. You Are Not Your Chemical Imbalance/Eating Disorder/Addiction.

I find my little substance abuse problem frightfully pedestrian. I hate thinking about it, talking about it, and living the day-to-day reality of it. It's fucking boring. I think that the fact that I am such a hateful, bitter little spore is ultimately what's going to save my ass.

Anyway.

Last Saturday was hella wicked fun. I spent the day at Paula's doing all of that girly wedding shit, along with Shari and Dawn (we're not exactly "bridesmaids" -- in fact, we can't quite figure out what we are. Paula refers to us as "turd-ettes," and I'm pretty happy with that title, really). We ordered sushi, cussed and belched, and watched "Valley of the Dolls."

I am truly blessed.

lisamcc at 11:28 a.m.

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