realization

I need to stop. I really need to stop drinking. I need to stop finding stupid, random, inexcusable excuses to drink. It’s getting really sad, pathetic, and uncontrollable. I feel out of control, and I’ve never felt that way. I’ve told plenty of people I’m a happy drunk—and, I plan to be/stay a happy drunk. Through many of my drinking experiences, there has been at least 3 occurrences where I have been the depressed drunk, and I absolutely hate it. Because I feel more pathetic than usual, so vulnerable, and so FUCKING DUMB. I was sober for 3 months, 2nd semester 1st year. It was hard, but I honestly didn’t feel the need to drink. Then, as soon as that Smirnoff touch my lips after 3 months, it was pure…ecstasy. From there, it was drinking purely to get rid of thoughts that consumed my life. Those thoughts were ridiculous, and they weren’t worth my energy to think about. But I did thought about it anyways, because as I’ve mentioned before, I care too much. I really do.

I don’t admit that I’m an alcoholic, because I really don’t think I am one. I can control myself. I don’t drink everyday, but when I do, it’s binge-drinking. I’m going to be in Sukhothai, and how is that going to affect my drinking? I’m going to be sober for a month, or at least try to. We’ll see how that goes, eh? Keeping a ‘sober journal’ via tumblr. It’ll be interesting? haha…hahaha…hah.

 I wish life could be so simple, and so sweet—like an ice cream sundae, so cliché with a cherry on top, on top of that crème fraiche. I’d like to think everyone grew up so naively, obliviously, free of hardships, but that’s never the case. I had wished plenty of times that I grew up free of hate, free of burdens, and free of impediments. To grow up is to mature, is to realize one’s surroundings, and is to realize others misfortunes in respect to one’s own blessings. I wish other people could realize how easy they have it. Maybe I need to realize that too, but I cannot stand standing by watching ignorant people complain about the pettiest things that have nothing to do with what is considered real hardship.  I hate helping others because people don’t appreciate my help. But, the only reason I do so, is because I care. I really do. What’s the fucking point of all this bullshit?