Life2.0 – On Thursdays, I am the Emperor of Alternity!
I watch your frequent Wine O’Clock posts on Facebook, and I swing between bemused fuck-whattery and abysmal despair.
Look, technically, I shouldn’t be writing this – because it’s absolutely your right to post whatever you damn well please on Facebook, and you really shouldn’t give a damn about those who sit in silent judgement of you. Fuck them, anyway. Fuck me, for being so Judgy McJudgerson.
Still…I often wonder how you would react if a drug user started posting Meth O’Clock posts. Line O’Clock posts. Weed O’Clock posts. Would you call them out for being a fucking junkie? Do you consider yourself a fucking drunk?
I think these things. I think these things a lot. It disturbs me – because I really don’t need to be distracted from dealing with my own addiction, wondering if you’re losing control. I forget, sometimes, that the only person I can fix, is me, and that trying to control you, or your substance use/abuse/dependency (choose applicable…) is part of the old way of thinking and engaging with the world. The old, broken way.
Still…do you KNOW how you sound…relentlessly posting your inability to make it through a week without getting out of it on wine? DO you get out of it on wine – or is this just a light, meaningless bit of noise otherwise parading as Facebook content? I don’t know. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, that you can make such lighthearted jokes about something that wrecks lives and families.
Maybe I need to light up. Lighten up…lighten up…not light up…yes…important distinction, there. Maybe I just need to get my ass to a group meeting again, soon. Because while you may only be saying “Wine O’Clock!’ what I am hearing is this:
I don’t need these shit thoughts running through my head. There’s already too much noise. Too much rage. Too much relentless, ceaseless, never-ending pounding away of ‘LIFE!LIFE!LIFE!SOBRIETY!SENSIBILITY!LIFE!DO!MORE!BE!MORE!SOBRIETY!GO!GO!’ – all the time. ALL the fucking time. At night. When I am alone. In the office, when it is quiet. In the silence, always.
It’s no good.
© Dave Luis 2014. All Rights Reserved.