It’s been a month so far since I’ve had alcohol. It’s not that I’m looking for validation or anything (so do not give it to me). I just need an outlet sometimes and this blog serves that purpose. It hasn’t been as difficult as I thought it’d be, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t deeply miss booze. I’ve taken up smoking cigarettes from to time. I don’t know what my fixation on self destruction is all about, but it seems I can barely get through the day without doing something that could lead to a slow death.

A lot of drunks act like sobriety is the solution to all their problems, as though sober living is the key to happiness. I call bullshit. There’s always a reason why someone habitually drinks or uses drugs to excess. It’s not like they just randomly woke up one day and decided to be a drunk. There’s always more to it than just, “I was happy and normal but then just randomly started guzzling a bottle of vodka daily.” It’s almost always some sort of self-medicating, coping mechanism. Giving up the toxins that you voluntarily consume isn’t a heroic thing. If someone breaks a window and then repairs it, it was still the person’s own fucking fault for breaking the window in the first place.

There isn’t much point to writing this shit. I’m still poor as fuck and battling my issues. There could be a day when I drink a little alcohol again, but the fun of being drunk wore off a long time ago. That’s when it became less like fun and more like medication.

Now I’m not saying that alcohol is evil or the root of all misfortune. There are plenty of times when getting drunk is perfectly reasonable and enjoyable, and there are plenty of people who responsibly drink without any problems. Hell, even if you’re a booze bag and proud of it, it’s your body, man. Kill it how you want to kill it.

I’m just tired of it.