Life’s crazy is continuing on without regard to the internal struggle I’m going through, and it has me thinking about the masks we wear.
One of the deeper issues I’m processing lately, mostly below the consciousness level until now, is the idea that I might actually have an issue with alcohol addiction. I know that sounds ridiculous, given that I’m making such a big deal about quitting – surely I must have already come to terms with being an alcoholic. But I haven’t. It was hard to even type that word out.
The subconscious struggle is fundamentally whether or not I actually need to be doing this. Am I really addicted? Is there really a problem? Could I just cut back? Am I making more drama about this than I need to? Everyone else is happily having their beer tastings, or work happy hours, or wine-o-clocks, or Mommy’s happy juice – and living apparently normal, healthy, balanced lives.
Am I really that person that can’t, ever again?
It’s rather bleak.