Why do I drink?


The short answer is, I enjoy it. But that’s not a real answer.

I already went over how much and how often I drink here. That post was about quantity, this post is to attempt to dive into why.

I’m bored.

Man, COVID lockdown did a number on me. I’m an introvert but the pandemic trained me to stay home, like all the time. I hardly go anywhere ever. And lezbehonest, now that I’m 333 lbs, I don’t want to be seen anywhere anyway. I’m embarrassed to be seen in public. I even saw an old friend at the liquor store recently and I just kinda kept my head down hoping he wouldn’t notice. Turns out I’m so much fatter than harrier than I used to be. He didn’t recognize me anyway.

Lots of time at home means lots of time to drink. And boy oh boy, I drink LOTS. (Averaged 2-3 bottles per week) Once I get a little buzzed, life just feels more interesting. Then I black out… making it easier to make it to tomorrow when I can turn off my brain tonight.

I’m overwhelmed

I have this constant loop in my head of trying to figure out the next steps of my life. Can I come up with a side hustle to help pay the bills, given I don’t make enough to pay them now? If I could start a new business, what would it be? I’m in a difficult spot where the things I’m best at I do for my day job. And there’s a non-compete clause in my contract. So if I tried to build and sell my own designs on the side, I could lose my job. I can’t afford that now. I’m caught in this perpetual loop of indecision. I can’t figure out what to do, I can’t figure out how to do it, and I’m brutally worn down from having to think about it. I can hardly function. Grabbing a bottle and turning off my brain for the night is a good way for me to avoid, or at least defer, the continuing stress.

Physically, I don’t know if I can recover from how poor my body and fitness have become. Needing to lose like 100 lbs is just overwhelming. I really don’t think I have it in me to fight back from this. I know how much work it’s going to take to pull myself out of this downward spiral and I start to drink because I know I can’t do it. My brutal hangovers are always an excuse for me to just relax one more day. I’m too sick and sore to work out. Maybe tomorrow….

I’m sad.

I’m sad.

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