On the Attack

Today I have been very busy. I received news that construction on my front porch would begin on Monday so I had to remove everything from underneath it this weekend. This has been a long time coming. Years! I am excited and scared. I have to trust these guys to do a good job….it is foreign territory for me. So, today I put my energy into removing all of this weird stuff from under the porch. It was embarrassing to me. Their were metal barrels that had leaves and sticks in it that should be put out for recycling years ago but hadn’t. The leaf recycling doesn’t start until next week so I have to put these barrels in back. Also there were rocks from the beach, pretty smooth rocks my mother had collected that I didn’t want to throw away that I needed to move into the back yard. I have a problem because i think my neighbors are watching me. They probably are too, they have boring lives but then what are they going to see, that I have rocks and junk under my porch? The weird part was the old paint cans that I have to bring to the toxic waste pick up place, they were in black bags. I put them into the wheel barrel. I kept thinking the neighbors were thinking I was removing body parts from under my porch!….LOL. Now you know I’m nuts! I wonder if this makes me a narcissist. Because I think everyone thinks about me. Or am I just lonely and I want people to think about me? By the end of the day there was a lot of work and I was really tired. I managed to squeeze in getting the grass cut and I am happy to say the yard looks really nice. So, you would think I would be happy and I would know what to do.
But the evening comes along and my father and brother go to sleep and my daughters are out and I am alone. I sit alone and my mind is not nice to me. I don’t understand this lately. I’m not depressed. Even with the death of my aunt. I want to escape the loneliness at night though. So, I am drinking again.
I hate the feeling in the middle of the night thought. I love the high from it while I’m drinking. The mania can’t be beat. I feel like I am 30 years younger and just flying, even if I am alone and have to be quiet and just listen to music on my headphones. But I know this is killing me, I’m not 17, I’m 47 and my liver is 47 and it’s loaded up on psych drugs that metabolize through the liver and tomorrow I will feel my liver. It will say…”SHIT”. Why am I self-destructive? Why don’t I just take a razor and cut myself like the old days? It was faster, easier, less destructive, quicker, lasted longer, but carried more of a stigma and an outer scar. Drinking is accepted in our culture. AAAh. I don’t want to think anymore…I am disgusted.

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One thought on “On the Attack

  1. carlarenee45 says:

    be careful sweety, before you get too dependent on the drinking to help you handle the loneliness. In the end, you know it only makes things worse.

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