Now we’re talking about the kind of intoxication everyone was probably expecting, as opposed to comic books and cartoons.
I am always hesitant to even discuss this, much less actually write about it. There is this odd dynamic with it where some people think it’s cool, other’s want to make it a contest and the rest can become a little judgmental.
Just a little.
I am not looking to tell war stories or sob stories or stories at all really.
My relationship with intoxication started fairly young and lasted longer than it should have. Just like the magical worlds, a desire for something different drove this. Something not me. I loved it from the first moment I met it, but we are not friends anymore.
Intoxication took on a life of its own at some point. I couldn’t have even told you why I was pursuing it with so much dedication, but I was certainly pursuing it. I became a fake and a liar and an imposter and a poser. I spent a lot of time being and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, always because I thought anyone else would be better than me.
I was not a cool intoxicated person.
I was not fun or funny or amusing most of the time. I did not have limits or boundaries. I was annoying and difficult to deal with. I became increasingly self-absorbed and self-pitying and self-centered.
So much self, but no self-awareness.
This is actually true of most everyone who makes intoxication a way of life, they just don’t realize it because they are surrounded by other intoxicated people. If they could pay attention they would see the healthier people in their lives slowly dropping off. The lack of big blow-ups and fights makes it harder to see the drift, but it’s there.
None of this should be surprising.
When we intoxicate ourselves, we are intentionally removing the responsible parts of our brain from the equation.
We are seeking to silence things like reason and logic and the anxiety that often tells us an idea or behavior might have negative consequences. We are seeking to let go and relax, to be less inhibited. It’s why we do it. Why are we surprised when it goes bad? Why are we surprised when the people who are engaging life and reality in a real, honest way slowly lose connection with us?
It’s not judgment or them not getting it or everyone just being too uptight, man.
It’s math. It makes sense.
See you tomorrow.
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