Mistakes

I'm not perfect, but I do know how to apologise when I'm wrong; even if I don't always see it until it's too late.

So here it is: I'm sorry for not seeing that I've gone from one destructive behaviour to another, and I'm sorry that I can't see how to move forward without losing my connection to the world and not sacrificing half a week to do so. I'm also sorry that it then leads to me depending on everyone else to keep me afloat while I flail hopelessly around in my mind, finding nothing but pain and sadness. It's not my intention, I never think of consequences and I'm too much of a dreamer and a optimist to ever think I will be fine this time, but it is selfish of me and I am sorry for that.

I think everyone who knows me well enough knows by now that for me alcohol isn't only a depressant, but that late nights and alcohol do something to me that goes beyond a hangover and sort of fries my emotions for a few days, strangely about two days after the fact.

Here's the conundrum. The problem I have with just walking away is that I'm afraid of change. Mostly I'm afraid if I stay home that people will move on with their lives without me; and that terrifies me because I'm lonely. I should trust that my friends would make time for me in other ways, and that perhaps I'd find new ones who don't share my destructive habits, but they are all I've got. I have my family, of course; but sometimes you need support and approval from people who aren't genetically programmed to love you. 

However, I'm also afraid that I'm going to end up dead, or setting back my progress one Cuban at a time. The thing about being a super strong person, the thing nobody talks about, is that you also know how weak you can be. You've seen yourself at breaking point and it's terrifying to think you could go back to that. I live in fear that today is going to be the day I lose it and maybe I won't get myself back this time. 

I know that whilst I carry on this live fast, be half dead all week nonsense I'm inviting the demons to come out to play. I'm not a stupid woman, even if my actions sometimes make even me question it. Sometimes I feel like an alien in my own body, sometimes I just want to forget how awful things feel and be surrounded with other people who don't really like themselves and drink themselves into denial. It's awful when you say it as it is; but facts are facts. 
To clarify, I'm not saying all my friends hate themselves- in fact they might all read this and think 'hey, don't apply your issues to my life' but in reality most happy late-20's/early 30-year olds don't tend to live for the weekend so they can feel a bit more sane. They might not do it consciously, I certainly don't sit there like 'right, Saturday night is here, let's drown myself in alcohol and try and act like I don't hate myself or my life' but it doesn't make it any less true. The reasons will differ, but the result is the same.

It doesn't work though. Sure, I might have a good laugh and get some nice photos and make memories. But I also have to endure the hangovers, possible (and highly likely) injuries, and fall outs from whatever inevitable drama that seems to circle everywhere. Something has got to change, I've got to change, and it scares the living hell out of me. But after all, Albert Einstein was a bit of a clever clogs and he apparently left a nugget of wisdom (and a load of stuff about gravity) behind when he passed away:

'Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.'