To Drink or Not to Drink

Day 240. You wanna know what’s scary? All I’ve been thinking about whenever I have a free moment at home is how much I want to buy some wine, drink it, watch some TV or play video games on my iPad or draw on the Paper app on my iPad, and then go to sleep early. Sometimes that former routine from my life pre-blog was so satisfying and necessary that I really miss it. I miss how it made me feel. Free and relaxed and unburdened by anything. I’ve missed it deeply since drinking on Sunday. Right now I don’t want to do anything other than going to sleep. I want to get this entry over with just so I can do that.

What’s happening? I think I can officially say I’m burnt out. I’m done, I guess, trying to be the best I can be. Maybe I’m just supposed to fail, or maybe my sights were set too high, or maybe I just need some time to recover, regroup, and restart my routines. Or maybe I don’t need to do all that I’ve done the past eight months. Maybe I just needed to do that for those eight months just to get to where I am today. I don’t know exactly where that is yet, but that’s the point of living, right? To just live and figuring out how to live it the best way you can. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just coming up with excuses to hide the fact that I’m flawed and human. Maybe I’ve been too focused on keeping these streaks alive that I totally ignored the signs all around me that I should slow down and live a little.

I haven’t read in about a week. That’s the only streak I’ve broken for longer than a day during the past eight months. Sadly, I’m not too torn up about it. I also stopped journalling in my paper journal, but that was a more deliberate decision. That fulfilled its purpose quickly, and I didn’t like the outcome. I’ll come back to it once I figure out what I want to use it for again. To be a better writer, I need to be a better reader. Remember when I wrote that? I don’t know what happened. My writing has been terrible recently, and maybe that has something to do with it. I think I’ve just been pushing myself too hard. Maybe I do need to drink some more every night. Maybe then I will lighten up and get more work done. Or maybe I’d spend it all playing video games on my iPad. Or maybe I’d start yearning for her for no other reason than the fact that I have nothing better to do.

No. I won’t do that. But maybe I will drink. I’ve written before about how I don’t like myself when I drink. Maybe it wasn’t the drinking; maybe it was just me that needed to change. I don’t know if I have, and I don’t know if I will. Maybe I’m just always gonna be a fuck up. That’s enough of a reason to drink.