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The Evolution of Emotional Denial.
So this is fun.
I’m trying to drink less – seriously.
By less I mean less frequently, and only with trusted company who know my problems and don’t participate in activities which exacerbate them. Drinking too often, with the enabling crowd only feeds my addiction to being addicted and perpetuates my depression, fog, and lack of creative production.
See, I’ve identified a kind of problem and rationalized myself to a kind of solution. I do not want to quit drinking. I do, however, want to make better decisions and spend more time with the people who matter most to me, and who know me best and want the best for me.
All that jibberish aside, the bottom of the issue is that I have emotional problems right? I mean no one drinks that much, and engages in the kind of behavior I do, and shuts down and lashes out at the intervals I do without unaddressed emotional problems. Right?
Here is the kick: I’m still not interested in addressing and dealing with those problems. Not yet, anyway.
Just because you do the work, and you reflect/self-absorb or whatever, doesn’t guarantee you will fix.
Maybe if I had Michael Fassbender Jung to fuck the crazy out of me I might adjust to normalcy. Maybe if I actually got into, and stuck with therapy, I would cure? Heal? Learn the tools I need to cope? I don’t even know if I buy any of that.
You play the hand you’re dealt you know. You find ways to cope and if you should identify one way or another that isn’t working, then you switch course.
But what is normalcy in a mad society?
What do I actually need to adjust about my emotional responses that will benefit me or any other member of this mad society?
How much avoidance can I avoid if I never stop avoiding?
Writing is my thing, and I want to write my way through whatever my issues are. Writing is how I make sense of things, and it makes sense to me.
Still, I will admit, even for the cutting back on drinks, and “partying” and minimizing (ha!) my illusory attachments to inappropriate men, I’m sure I’ve already found a substitute for my unattended emotional yearnings. Natch, I’m masking this as something else all together. I’ve thrown myself into working and working out. I will be hot, and successful, and determined, and fearless and brave.
I will be anything but emotional, and in turn, hurt.
Just look at me, outsmarting my feels
at every turn.
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