Semi-Sober: A Journey to Adulthood

Since I started drinking, I've had a problem knowing when to stop. There's been a couple of years (more specifically the summers of 2003 and 2007, especially 2007) where I was a heavy partier. It's gone up and down throughout the years, but I vary from being a bit of a hermit to an out-at-all-hours party girl. I'm good at extremes.

Recently, I've realized that I've designated myself as the "fun girl". I don't know if other people share this same notion of me, it's completely all in my head. I realized this in the car yesterday. That's how recent this actualization was. I'll spare you the manic train of thoughts that led me to that AHA moment. Anywho, being this fun girl, well a lot of the time it involved Drunk Alex, and I would let loose another part of myself. She laughs, she dances, she's bold and she falls. I'm also like that when I'm sober, but to a lesser degree. I still fall. Trying to be a fun girl is exhausting; I rarely said no to going out, was always up for more, more, more. Was I genuinely having fun? Most of the time, yes, I was. I was having a blast. 

But then it went from being funny to being reckless. My shenanigans stopped being cute. My hangovers became more of a nuisance because I actually had plans the next day. I'm not in my early twenties anymore and 30 is staring at me like, "buddy, get your shit together before you hit a wall." And I've hit many, many a wall. 

I'm sure many of you have had one too many drinks, forgotten to say to yourselves, "hold on, this tequila shot will probably result in my singing to the porcelain gods, no thanks." And it's not that I only binge drink. I don't. I can easily have 1 drink, or none, but more and more when I've gone out on weekends I've gone hard. Too hard. I skinned my bloody knees recently. Or rather, skinned them bloody. My friend's mom pointed out that I should have stopped skinning my knees when I was six. (At first I thought she said that I should only be skinning my knees during sex, and I was pretty shocked.)

I'm still nursing that one knee back to health.

Staring at all my reckless behaviour and stupidity over the past couple of years, rather than laughing it off as I've done, I realized that I need to change something. Anybody remember that scene from Sex and the City where Carrie's friend is still partying hard in her late 30s and falls out a window and dies? Yeah, I don't want to be her. (Also her name in the show is Lexi and yeah, I was all shit, son!) 

So here begins my 4 month journey of semi-sober. I put some guidelines down so that I couldn't cheat, especially because I have no self-control. I have only allotted 4 occasions, 1 per month, that I am allowed to drink, and only 2 drinks those nights. I could have allowed myself to drink a glass of wine or beer at dinner, but I think this will be a good test of character, will and self-discovery for me to go semi-sober. Why allow the 1 night each month then? Well it started because I have some big events coming up, such as my birthday and my friend's wedding, and because I think that it is way more likely that I will succeed if I make it realistic for myself. It's also a good test. Can I only drink 2 on my birthday when people want to buy me drinks? I 100% know that I can, and it will be cheaper for everybody. Win-win. Another reason why is because I can be a bit of an extremist, and that it never a good idea. This is in the middle, and it feels good.

With all this money that I'll have saved, I'm definitely buying myself a pony.

Do You Face Your Attacker?

I know, it's been awhile since I've written. Awhile? A long time. And I'm not sure when I will write again after this. However I felt that this was important to share, and it's taken me awhile to work through this. You may remember my post a couple years ago about a rando that I met at the bar whose name was Awesome. I posted a sound clip of numerous voice mails that he had left for me, as I had thought they were extreme and funny and wanted to share them with my readers. All of 30 people read that post. A couple of days later someone posted a nasty note on Reddit linking to my blog, claiming to be Awesome and making up random things behind the phone calls that they supposedly left. I knew beyond a doubt that it was not the person who left the voice mails and had an inkling that it was someone I knew that posted it. This didn't stop the hundreds of hate comments I received, death threats and my picture and personal information (Facebook account, email address, and other links to my personal information) being posted on other trolly websites. I received emails and Facebook messages and ended up completely blacking out all of my accounts. And then it ended and the trolls moved on to someone else to attack. I never thought that I would out who felt the need to do such a malicious thing. However a few weeks ago my brother told me that he was told who it was. I screamed. I screamed bloody murder for about 10 minutes. It was someone who I went to high school with. We were never friends, nor were we enemies. To my knowledge, I never did anything to him. When I found out, all sorts of revenge ideas were streaming through my head, I wanted him to pay, I wanted him to know what hell he put me through, I wanted to see his remorse. And I wanted to punch him in the face. With my fist. The next day, I wanted to contact him and meet him in person to let him know that there are consequences for your actions. And then the anger subsided. Nothing I said would change what happened. It was years ago and it doesn't matter any more. I'm not writing for anybody to get angry for me. More of a lesson. Every action has a consequence, and just because you can't see the person's face, they are human and they have feelings. Also, don't name your kid Awesome. Or Wispy. So, Jeff. If you are reading this I hope that you never do what you did to me to anybody else.