Today, I was reminded once again about how much fun I could be having if I was single and not addled with a fucking family or all the bullshit that it entails.

I could use some of that expendable cash to go on ski trips to Tahoe. I could have every toy I’ve ever wanted and not have to justify it to anyone. I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and not have to worry about getting yelled at.

I could continue killing myself with alcohol and no one would stop me.

I wouldn’t have to worry about my kids doing good in school, I wouldn’t have to worry about the mess they make, I wouldn’t have to worry about the wife calling me last minute and wanting to fill up (again) my day off with her fucking honeydo’s. fuck that. No. You want me to run all over fucking town for you at the last minute? No. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do tomorrow, but it sure as shit ain’t gonna be running all over town with the kids while you get a damn facial. Not at the last minute. If you would’ve brought this up a few days ago, then sure we could’ve worked something out, but you can’t just be changing my plans (or lack thereof) at the last minute like that.

And you know what, it’s not even worth it to argue with you about it. So I’ll write it here. I fully expect for you to be pissed the rest of the evening and hell, prolly all weekend, but when is that any different than any other time? You say I’m hard to love? Well listen up babycakes, you’re not a fucking stroll in the park either. Oh but you get a pass b/c you’re a woman, and it’s that time, and, bullshit. I’m tired of just sitting here and taking it. I’m tired of being sober. I’m tired of being a family man. I’m tired of working. I just want to go crawl in a corner and drink. And drink. And drink. And drink.

So maybe I should quit my bitching and start seeing you for the blessing that you are. You keep me honest. You keep me busy doing things and worrying about things that I otherwise wouldn’t. You, oh fuck it, who cares, let’s go drink.

Is it still suicide and a sin if you know that doing a thing will kill you but you keep doing it anyway? Regardless?

Yup, definitely still stuck in that first stage of anger and denial. I’m not really pissed at the wife or the family, I’m just pissed I’m not allowed to drink anymore but I’m taking it out on them. It sucks. I.HATE.BEING.SOBER. I don’t hate my family, I just hate not drinking.



~ by sobriety6923 on February 25, 2010.

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