For the last year sobriety has been on mind.
Maybe it’s because I feel I have a genetic predisposition to alcoholism or that I feel it’s interfered with my writing and family life too much.
Either way, it’s been a detrimental to how I conduct myself.
It’s awfully hard to get words on the page when you’re sick, your skull is pounding and the slightest sound turns you into Thanos, ready to snap the wife and kids into oblivion.
I feel that I’ve been more confused lately about things. They’re not clicking.
I’ve given myself a break from alcohol to see if that’s the cause and it may be. We shall see.
I’ve had moments as a kid when I’d seen family members intoxicated and thought, I’ll never do that.
Then we grow up and it happens. I’m uncomfortable with that.
My kids saw me the way I’ve seen others and it upset the hell out of me.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be completely abstinent in regards to alcohol but it has moved down the ladder of requirements.
I’ve used it to buffer emotional and physical pain as well as a stress reducer.
Yes I’m a TM(Transcendental Meditation) practitioner and will continue to be so but there are moments that stir things and I reach for a bottle to deal with it.
I know and understand I shouldn’t do this but it’s a reaction I’ve had for most of my adult life.
I’m trying to get to a better place emotionally, physically, and creatively. I don’t feel alcohol is needed for me to do that.
I’ll come out the other side with more understanding of my mental state and my writing.