2006-05-07
Introduction
My only best friend before was a journal.
If I had something to share, it went directly to written words both typed and written in green ink. I found green ink pleasant if I had to backtrack. When I first started writing, I didn't have much of a life. Actually, I haven't had much of a life at all, really, now that I think about it. That's not the point though.
When I was "too busy" to sit down and "collect my thoughts", I was out drinking. At one time, I was completely against alcohol.
That's changed though. Most people that know me wouldn't think I had a problem with alcohol and have told me just that when I questioned it the once or twice out loud.
There is nothing wrong with you acting your age, dear.
There is me thinking to myself at the end of a work week. Buy the teal blue tank top with the blue lace trim, put some make up on, go out dancing until 2am, sip vodka and orange juice. Have another drink. Just one more. Maybe light a cigarette.
I'm not saying it's anyone's fault for me drinking a little too heavily, absolutely not.
I am functioning. So far, I've hidden the fact from most people pretty well that I rely heavily on this bottle during rough times. And it's been nothing been rough times the past year and a half.
Anyway, it's been getting out of hand lately for me so I'm determined to stop it before it gets worse. This will sound cheesy, but I will tell you this, journal, as I should be able to write anything I want right?
I woke up, literally and decided I was going to stop, it was one Saturday morning around 10am. I had passed out three hours before. It was beautiful outside. I didn't actually look out the window, but the room I was in had pink blinds so it was easy to figure out with the streaks of light shining into the room. I could hear traffic outside. I could hear kids yelling and playing. I could hear someone mowing their lawn. For a few minutes, I thought, about all the things I could have been doing that morning. I imagined maybe drinking coffee out of a mug, reading the paper, listening to a top 40 countdown, making an elaborate breakfast, planning out my day, washing my hair with floral shampoo, ends of my hair soaked in conditioner, and the smell of cigarette smoke wouldn�t even cross my mind.
It's true but it still sounds cheesy to me. What's funny is this whole thing didn't happen during the times when people might think I would have had the sudden insight. I'll get to that later, I guess. It's late, and this is my first entry. Let's hope I keep this up.
illfortune at 7:14 p.m.
Listening to:
Feeling:
Wanting: