Guilty (Pleasures)

Some nights, I fall and hard. My hands are heavy and numb from the constant beer bottles shuffling out of my hands. It’s an easy addiction made only easier by having a rough or less than stellar work day. Does that mean I’m proud of the amount of liquid courage cascading down my throat? Absolutely not. Drinking is a bitch. Unfortunately, it brings out the worst in me when I tread passed calm and relaxed and into unadulterated chaos. I’m a mess, but only some days.

I’ve asked a close friend if doing these activities somehow makes me a bad person. Does the infrequent nights where I willing indulge in my guilty pleasures define me? She says no. I’ve found myself asking her for advice on more than one occasion, since she’s a nurse by night and someone I’ve known for more than half my life. My core group of friends have one skewed and often colored perception on the topic of drinking and other illicit activities. I reasonably couldn’t expect the truth from them. Say it ain’t so.

Other days, I feel completely untouchable. I’ll run my usual 5K and feel the rush of endorphins flooding my inner cranium. It stopped being hard since last year and now is the go to method for stress relief. Maybe the sales for the month are at a new all time high and my bonus is larger than ever. Good news tends to trickle in — only making it more scarce and of a lower threshold.

I’m no saint, but I have honesty going for me. What do I have to lose? Almost every week I ask myself: What the fuck am I doing?



Creeping Up

You fear less about wanting to do something when you remind yourself of your morality. A drink here. A line here. A pill or two there. It’s easy to swallow for the bliss all the vices the world brings. It’s a battle against yourself, your mind, and the feelings of temptation.

Life’s not all pleasure seeking. Some days you fall. The false invincibility substances and sweet lady courage brings is met with danger. You tend to get lucky. Like most addictions, it’s fun in the beginning. Slowly, the light begins to fade. You’re met at the abyss. Look into the mirror and you may see someone unfamiliar. It’s interesting how you can lose control of your own body.

The mercy of the world is right in front of you. Somehow, telling yourself no is one of the hardest decisions there is to make.

Fight me.



Hedonism: the pursuit of pleasure

Hedonism says life’s pursuits are all about seeking pleasure. That if it makes you feel good, you should keep doing it. It exemplifies the pursuit of pleasure as the main goal in life. It strikes a cord with me. Thank you Professor Richards for saying how much of a fucking idiot I was.

At first thought, sure. Why not? Things that bring pleasure are inherently that — good feelings. But not everything that feels good is good for your body. Do a line of cocaine and you’ll have feelings of euphoria, but be met with the crushing blow of withdrawals the morning after. You can forget about sleeping afterward. Coupled with the less obvious harm you’re doing by constricting your arteries, you’re trapped in the bliss it brings without realizing the dangers brought.

Drinking alcohol is much the same. Have a glass of wine and you’ll feel relaxed. Drink an entire bottle every night and you’re nothing more than a shell of a person who is otherwise calling for help. I’ve been there and back. It feels great to be numb and sedated. Hangovers are not. Drug addiction and alcoholism are a bitch. Whose to stop you if you’re down on your luck and alone at night with nothing but your thoughts and a near limitless bank account?

Everything is just that. Fledging moments of happiness glossed over as self-destructive behavior hoping for quick relief. Pain management comes in many forms. Some pop a pill, others drink, and some take a more drastic approach to life’s turmoil. Your ego is your greatest enemy. The innate primitive drive to seek out rewards and feel satisfied subconsciously work against you. It’s no wonder a large portion of the population is medicated and dealing with addiction in epidemic numbers. Temptation is everywhere. All I got going for me are my thoughts and a couple journal entires to keep me in check.

Later world.



Sedation is a wonderful feeling. You stop thinking for those few fledgling moments. It’s Zen. It’s calming. Yet, it comes back with a vengeance. It’s a trade off. Feel composed yet feel the wrath of the aftermath and whatever lingering effects sweet lady courage brings. In that sense, you never really break free. You want more of it. It’s reach is all encompassing and controlling. Son of a bitch. Quitting is difficult, but as they say, old habits die hard.