Last week, because the provider of my care is a charity and reports their progress, it was semi annual review of my treatment plan. I was doing really well at the time, had started to step down the meds and the alcohol, it was briefly starting to feel like I had sufficient input to my life.
I don’t even have a great crash story. I know that what happened was at some point I was up until almost 4 AM, and since I don’t have any time sensitive work to do, I was going to sleep until noon. Around 7:30 I was woken up, my wife sick, so I have to run out to the store to get her some medications. Which in a way is great, I love to be necessary, makes it seem like not killing myself is a good choice.
The point is when I got back home I went back to bed, and had to revert to full strength drugs to get to sleep the night after. That was at least four days ago, but I’m not feeling optimistic about tonight. Today I avoided coffee, and made it through the first half of the day without nicotine. I was so sleepy at 4 PM, that I decided to take a puff on my vape.
There’s quite a bit of shame here, I consider myself bright and rational on my good days, but this is about as far from that as can be. I have to be careful what and when I write about stuff, because my up in the middle of the night brain inserts random absurdities into my writing.
I’d like to be sober, not have a constant dependency on the chemicals that I am provided with. Life would have to hurt much less. Oh well, I tried, and I’ll try again. I think that is the purpose of being for humans. It doesn’t matter if we succeed, the effort seems to be what matters.