HARD TIMES, HARD ROCK, ALCOHOL, NOSTALGIA (Nothing Stays The Same)

I’ve tried hard not to lie on my blog. I won’t start now. I haven’t felt well in awhile. Not physically or mentally. When I have an overwhelming feeling to relive past experiences I know I’m headed down the rabbit hole. I don’t mean relive them in my head, I mean actually do them again or something similar.

I can’t hop on a plane to L.A. and have drinks with Lars, I can’t hop on a plane and annoy Sebastian Bach, I can’t charm my way on to a bus filled with musicians. I miss those days. It isn’t so much the drinking I miss, it was the person I was able to be. No medication or therapy has ever made me feel like that person. In my head I was confident, funny, smart, pretty, and everyone wanted to be around me. In some cases that was true. But mostly it wasn’t. It was nice that I didn’t know or care what anyone thought at the time. Those were brief periods of drinking where the Worm didn’t come out to play.

When I drank no one knew who I would be at a certain point in my drinking. My best friend called it “The Turn of Worm”. That was when I would become reckless, mean, or on occasion violent. Sometimes I would hurt myself. I jumped off of the deck of a building one time. It wasn’t high up so I hadn’t done any real damage to myself. My best friend wasn’t happy. She rarely showed emotion except when it came to me. Now she doesn’t show me anything anymore. I can’t blame her. I just don’t understand why you would babysit someone for over 20 years and then wait until they’ve been sober almost 9 years before letting them go? She actually started to pull away sooner than that if I’m honest. This breaks something deep inside me that I can’t even name. She knew me better than my twin.

I care too much about everything and everyone since I stopped drinking. Emotional overload has made me weak and tired. I feel the way I did as a child only my mom isn’t here to comfort me. She always knew I was different. I would hear her talking to my Dad. She would tell him I was more sensitive than other children and to just “leave me be”. So that’s what they did for as long as I can remember. I went to my mom to cry. I missed school a lot of days sometimes when I said my “stomach hurt” and they didn’t question it. My father only recently said to me what he thought “I should’ve ignored your mother and taken you to a doctor when you were little. Maybe you wouldn’t be like this now”. It doesn’t do any good to try to blame anyone. I know he has blamed her side of the family many times. I personally have blamed my Grandmother. I think she was a rotten Mother and a horrible person in general.

I constantly feel an ache inside me. It never stops except when I sleep. I have been to countless Doctors and Therapists. I’ve done every different method suggested from visualizing a stop sign, writing a daily journal, changing my diet, ECT, so many different combinations of medications I’ve lost count. I’ve been asked if I can be videotaped for students to watch like a lab experiment, my dignity and pride lost a long time ago.

There is nothing that interests me anymore.