Distract, avoid, and run.

Everything hurts, and I’m struggling to hang on. I’ll try not to think about it, not to feel any of it.

Distract myself out of any and all possible pain.

It’s times like now I wish I could rely on what I’m so used to relying on – alcohol. The only thing I want, the only thing that ever mattered in times like these.

I’m better off without it, I know I am. I know it’s nothing but an ugly crutch, but still…it’s a crutch I feel like I can’t live without.

Distract myself from the pain, distract myself from wanting to drink.

Avoidance, distraction….I’m not sure that’s the healthy plan here either. Shit, I just want to give in to it all. I don’t want to live in this pain. I want the pain to stop.

Distract yourself from it. Feel something else. Anything else.

It’s awfully hard to not be so consumed by this constantly present pain.

How can things be so bad, only to lose the support I thought I had? I don’t fucking care anymore. The walls are up, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get them down again.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to live, not when I clearly don’t deserve to.

I’m sorry I’m a fuck up.

I really, really just want to drink. I question what the point of strength is, when it seems like weakness is all I have, all I am.

Right now, I just want to run. I want to run and never look back, avoiding and escaping.

I know it will make it worse. Running from pain never works.

But I’d rather create the pain myself than live and suffer with things out of my control.

I’d rather hurt myself than be hurt by anyone else.

12 thoughts on “Distract, avoid, and run.”

  1. I’m not sure where to start or exactly what to say. I understand wanting to hurt yourself rather than be hurt by others. I understand wanting to create the pain rather than suffer what is beyond your control. These past few days have been hard on me as well. I don’t mean to make this about me but rather to tell you that you aren’t alone. If you want to email me and talk we can I also have a Fb page for my blog that I get messages on if that would work better. You aren’t alone. I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through this.

    1. I’m sorry it’s been a rough time for you as well, I hate that for you. As comforting as it is to not feel alone in my feelings, I hate that other people hurt, too.
      Thanks for reminding me that I’m not alone.

      1. I hate that it’s so hard too. And I think she did do something wrong. You’re struggling, and she backed off rather than stepping up to the plate. That’s not okay.

      2. I want to be angry, but I know that won’t help me at all. It’s just easier to hate myself for it, knowing I didn’t do a good enough job. Even in therapy, I’m a fuck up.

  2. I’d rather hurt myself than be hurt by anyone else. Oh, Sweet Lady, do I feel this statement so deep in my bones that I know it’s an inherent truth for you, and for me.

    I understand the allure of alcohol more than most. I had fifteen years of sobriety, when I decided that I could “drink like a normal person” (a lie from the frenetic hamsters in my head)… and spent four years lost in my addiction, picking right the fuck back up from where I’d left off. It took two very serious suicide attempts, and an awful fight with my son to bring me back to a semblance of normalcy; and I now have another four-plus years of sobriety.

    If you are interested in attending a Women’s meeting of AA on Zoom, please send an email (baitlessbiter@gmail.com) and I respond immediately with our meeting ID and password. You are not alone. Do not give up. There is so much beauty to be found beyond the pain; and I know that you have the strength to overcome.

    And I agree with Ms. Ashley regarding your therapist. It’s okay to say that you need more support. Do not take the failings of others on as your own. People are flawed, and they will let you down… and though I know it feels like it’s your mistake, it truly is not.

    1. Thank you, you’re right. I know I need to be able to ask for what I need, even though it’s really hard.
      I absolutely know I will never be able to “drink like a normal person”, yet I know that won’t stop be from trying. I’m only sober because I’m pregnant, and even that has been hugely challenging. I’m glad you got back on track, I know how hard that is! It’s so much easier to keep going than it is to start over.

      1. The first time I got sober, it was because of my pregnancy. Shortly after having my son, I fell back into addiction… and then managed to get sober when he was three-years-old and stay that way until he graduated high school and left the nest. (Which took away, I felt, my identity as a mother… and thus, my spiral back into addiction, once again.)

        I know you feel like you’re in a dark place, with very little hope; but, cling to the light that manages to find it’s way through the cracks. If you ever want to talk about your struggles with alcohol, I am here. I sponsor women (quite untraditionally) in the program, and do not make sobriety about God (because that path never worked for me). I am more than willing to be a personal pen pal; and am here, should you decide to reach out. 😘

      2. Yeah, I got sober for the first time with my first pregnancy, and this is currently my 4th actually. But every time it’s been the only thing that’s gotten me sober, but it’s never stuck. And clearly I’ve gotten deeper and deeper into it the more times I go through it, it’s like I fall harder each time.
        That’s actually really interesting and pretty tempting, I definitely need help with my “sobriety” and I’m super hesitant about AA and all that, I don’t know why. But it definitely wouldn’t hurt to have someone on my side when it comes to that.

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