COLD late Saturday night in February tunes and journaling

Went out for a few hours earlier. Unsweetened tea all night, visited with a few people I hadn’t seen in a while, listening to tunes and watching the winter olympics (mostly curling). Good to get out of the apartment sometimes, go be social. At least hang out in the presence of people. But goddamn it’s cold outside.

Back in and warming up now. Tune currently playing in the background, Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down”:

Prior to that, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord” with the Carter Sisters:

One from earlier in the evening:

That was Depeche Mode’s “Hole To Feed.”

We’re a weird fucking species, man. WEIRD. Difficult to make sense of, inside our own selves included.

On a separate note, I don’t need AA meetings when I have bars. Any bar will do if you want to bear witness to the problems that like to accompany alcohol consumption. Case in point, tonight I ran into a barpal who’s regularly at this new lounge, having known him from the old bar that closed about a year back. Big-time drunk. And it’s sad to see continuing to unfold, now going on knowing him nearly 3 years. Partied with him and his friends a few times in the past in his garage and new house. Don’t wish to go into the details that are his business, just sad to see him going down like that. He used to talk with me about how he wanted to quit, but now it’s obvious he’s given up on that plan. Congratulates me on my success though, which I appreciate.

Some people handle it better than others. But hard, regular consumption degrades us all over time. It’s the nature of the drug.

Not wanting to come off as judgmental about everybody at the bar. I like this particular new lounge, and it’s far less drama than most other bars in the area. A bartender from the old bar transferred over there, so it’s nice to go in occasionally during his shift. Believe I’ve been in there 3 times since December, then not since August. Never been drunk in there, though the regulars from the old bar that came over have witnessed plenty of that out of me for a couple years prior. But it’s nice now to be able to just chill and socialize a little and people-watch. Ponder a bit. And there are a number of people in there who are supportive of quitting drinking and a few others who don’t drink alcohol who hang out there too. So, not a rough environment like some of the other shitholes around.

Though bars are kind of a depressing scene either way—no question—perhaps more to me now than ever. Even the nicer bars. An asshole I don’t like dropped in shortly before I took off to head home, telling the bartender about how he got an O.W.I. last time he drove home from the bar. Paid nearly $6,000 so far just for his lawyer — god knows what the fines will be. Said something about it affecting his license.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t have $6,000 lying around. Can’t pull it off my credit cards either.

A D.U.I. will fuck you up.

Have no idea how I avoided one all those years. My friends say it’s a miracle, and it was. Talk about Russian roulette. And it would’ve probably made me lose my job. I knew that, and yet I gambled anyway many, many times. Eventually the odds are we’ll get caught. Or wreck into another car. Or a tree.

Thankfully, some play it safer than others.

That was “Done Got Old” by Robert Belfour.

We’re all getting older…

Sometimes it’s best to call it when there’s still time. Why do we wait to hit some sort of rock bottom to force our hand? And how many “rock bottoms” does it take?

There are so many ways one can become addicted. Can become addicted to attachments with certain people too. Come to find out.

Jotted down some notes earlier and taped them to the wall. Made a list of attributes for the HELL I’D LIKE TO AVOID and another one for the greener pasture I’d like to strive toward. Then listed a few goals for this upcoming year. Focal points to try to keep my mind on track going forward.

Turnpike Troubadours — “Before The Devil Knows We’re Dead”:

Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats – “I Need Never Get Old”:

Still never tire of that song.

Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats – “S.O.B.”:

Son of a bitch

Give me a drink

One more night

This can’t be me

Son of a bitch

If I can’t get clean

I’m going to drink my life away

[…]

Now for seventeen years I’ve been throwing them back

Seventeen more will bury me

… Yup.

I’ll tell you what, Schweppes black cherry seltzer water has been a big help. Keeps me content, replaces beer nicely, with no calories or sweeteners.

Need to quit smoking soon enough.

“Blood Sweat and Murder” by Scott H. Biram:

Blood, sweat, and murder
Black luck and trouble
Head full of sorrow
I’m in a whole lot of trouble now

Long-time favorite, “Copperhead Road” by Steve Earl:

Dwight Yoakam’s “Fast As You”:

Listened to a lady barpal tell about her crazy antics tonight. She also mentioned having been in treatment three times in the past. She’s a grown woman, at least my age. Sister to that other fella mentioned already. They came up in a good family by all accounts. Have good jobs. Mentioning it as an observation.

People say they want to quit, but they don’t really. Not yet. I said I wanted to quit for at least two solid years before finally pulling the plug. Sometimes I get scared that I’ll prove weak and succumb to that scene again, but I really hate what alcohol does to my life and am already well-aware that I can’t moderate. No point in continuing to try to do so. Luckily for me, drinking stopped being much fun by the end. Those whose friends and family are all involved and make it seem like fun probably have the toughest challenge. This is one instance where I’m glad to be more of a contrarian loner — makes it easier to part ways and say fuck ’em. Mean as that may sound. You care, but what can you do about somebody else’s choices? Nothing. It’s theirs to make. Hard enough keeping one’s own ship afloat.

Certainly not there to preach the virtues of not drinking — wouldn’t matter anyway since they already know. We’ve all tried quitting before.

What I find interesting is how the barscene atmosphere itself proves a bit intoxicating. No drugs required. Maybe it comes from being submerged in a rowdy gathering of any kind. Nice to find out.

Oddly enough, I don’t crave alcohol all that much while out at bars nowadays. Not sure why. You’d think watching people drink would make me want to all the more, but actually not very strongly. Had stronger urges sitting alone at home.

Doesn’t feel like I’m missing much. Headaches and various pains. Making a fool of myself. Risking an O.W.I. if I’m stupid enough to drive. Saying shit I might wish later I hadn’t said. Wasting lots of time and money. Etc.

Obviously the gremlin inside still wants to drink. Which isn’t surprising since it’s proven hell-bent on pursuing mindless destruction. That’s just what it does apparently. Can’t reason with it; just have to stop feeding it. Keep the alcohol out of my mouth. Simple as that. And simple doesn’t necessarily equate with easy. That’s the trick, in a nutshell.

Anger has proven invaluable in kicking my ass away from that lifestyle, mostly anger with myself. Some like to think keeping a “positive” frame of mind is where it’s at, but I disagree. That can turn into coddling oneself. Being too permissive. Hence how we got into this mess over time. There’s definitely a point where getting pissed and staying pissed seems more fruitful, serving as a propellant and barrier for re-entry. Getting fed up with disliking oneself so goddamn much and perpetually feeling disappointed for caving is key. Pretending like it’s a never-ending party when it’s long since stopped being merely that isn’t “positive” — it’s deluded. But each has to arrive at that conclusion their own way, I guess. *shrugs*

This year is still young. Looking forward to making more changes, though I can’t help but dread one in particular. It’s for the best to cease contact in that situation, and I know I need to. Won’t move onward in life with that door always remaining ajar. Figured it’d be closed by now, but apparently it requires conscious, deliberate action to make that be the case. It’s long past due. Self-respect is on the line. Not even sure exactly what I’ve been holding onto anymore. Lots of loaded memories and expectations. Some routine comfort. Love. Familiar companionship. Grown unhealthy though. Regardless, it’s very painful letting go.

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