Childish Things

It's the usual repeat.
Things, my life, my actions get dangerous and reckless and I stop drinking and hide in the program.
It keeps the monsters at bay. It quiets the whispers that turn into roaring screams when I drink.

I have to keep it between the lines. There's a part of me that I have to let go if I'm going to get anything out of this life.
I have to trade the excitement...the cheap thrills.....to avoid the ever increasingly expensive mistakes.
I'm the biggest threat to myself.

The stupidly hot girl I was banging on the side comes by work when she gets back from out of town.
I know the play so I'm not surprised how it plays out.
She gives me a hard time for some things I said but she's kind of drunk, and of course half hanging on some guy trying to make me jealous but this isn't my first rodeo so I don't flinch. On some bizarre woman-need level she needs me to pass this test and of course despite her protests to the contrary, she's secretly glad I balk at her showing up at my work in this state and don't flinch when she tries to pretend like she's not there for any other reason than to prove to herself I want her and make me jealous and goad me into showing interest to put salve on her wounded ego. Given her previous line of work and predilections and lifetime as an extremely hot chick, my ignoring her for the better part of two weeks is like crack rock to her.....and I'm dealing it not b/c of game theory or whatever-the-fuck but solely because she's not terribly interesting minus when my dick is inside of her.

I'm back in the program and I'm left now picking or rather trying to determine how much of my former self has to die that the new me will live, survive and thrive.

It's a tricky line and one I'll probably never have a definitive answer to but then I stop and remember I don't have to know the answer now....but also knowing that the high wire balancing act is one with the very real possibility of leading to my death. You never know which one is your last run.

I can go back into sobriety and perhaps even go back out...but I'm already tired of the rebuilding then throwing it away however long after.

I have a super long weekend booked ahead of me and have to watch my internal state or I'll find myself drinking Sunday when I'm free.

I have to fight most of my strongest impulses and instincts: to be impulsive, to isolate, to mistrust others, to last out.
It's a tough transition to make at times and requires near constant vigilance.
I have to legitimately put work into this every day to even maintain sobriety for days at a time.
That old cycle I was on left me battered, empty, ridiculously alone....and feeling like an animal or a ghost or a shell of a human being.

I have to accept that....that's where it takes me...and there's always another level to hell as I've found out.