Reflections of a Sober Drunk

Some people joke about being an alcoholic and they are not. Some people are an alcoholic and joke that they aren‘t. Some people are alcoholics and admit it. I used to think I was an alcoholic but according to the Drug&Alcohol counselor that I had for my “almost” DUI (I blew under the legal limit so they dropped it to a reckless driving) I’m just a drunk. See, lately that has been confusing me, am I a drunk? What exactly is a drunk? Is that worse then being an alcoholic or better? Its kind of like when I went to the doctor one time and he told me, “You’re not obese, you’re just fat.” I remember pausing for a second and then asking him if that was a good thing, he replied back, “Well, its better then being obese.” So…is a drunk not as bad as an alcoholic? I don’t know. If you’re wondering how he classified this let me do my best to explain.

Alcoholic’s need liquor to survive, they are the type to wake up in the morning and add some whiskey to the morning coffee. They are the type that will have killed a bottle before lunch time. The type that need it everyday. Me, I use alcohol to cope. Its my way of self-medicating my depression. Since I’m depressed 90% of the time I drink 90% of the time. However, in a given week, I’ll go 2-3 days without drinking. Those days, are my good days, the days I’m not depressed. Hell those days I may even be happy, I just try and consider myself normal.

I’ve noticed lately though that I tend to black out pretty much every time I drink. Not large gaps of the night, just small gaps. Say for example last night, I don’t remember any of the conversations at my friends house. I don’t remember leaving. I just remember being at my friends house having a good time and drinking, then being at my place cooking something to eat and going to bed. I think its gotten worse since my last birthday. You don’t even want to know what I drank my last birthday. Fuck, I don’t even remember my last birthday. I remember the beginning of the night. Going to Sidelines and I think I had three pitchers of beer (by myself) and three shots of Jim Jones. When I got to Bullfrogz I remember having a Jaeger bomb, then the bartender made me this fucked up shot that he set on fire. I remember looking at my friend after I took it and going, “What does my breath smell like?” That was it. He said he watched my face drop right after I said it. From reports, I drank another pitcher of beer and had around fourteen shots. So…yeah. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about that lately. I also realize how much money I spend on alcohol. It’s no wonder I’m broke.

So yesterday on Pajiba they got into a discussion of zombies. I kind of realized that I am way too obsessed. No really, its borders on psychotic. I was arguing with TK on his wall over on facebook and realized that even I sounded insane to myself. Is it wrong to have a battle plan? Is it wrong to already know what you’re going to do step-by-step? I actually don’t think it will ever happen (how could it?) but I want it to. Oh yes, I do. I want to be able to say my geekdom/nerdom actually saved my life. You know what would also be fantastic. If you consider all the nerds that would survive what would the next generation of people be like after we all started breeding? Would we have like super smart kids? I’d like to think so. The only problem would be the male to female ratio. Arguably you would think that not very many women would survive. Its been proven that women have a hard time killing someone (yes, even undead I think they would have a hard time killing their little brother). However, its also been proven that while men are more likely to pull a gun, women are more likely to pull the trigger. So what does that say? We always see in movies that there aren’t very many female survivors. So the men always go after the few women that are left (think 28 Days Later). I just hope that considering I don’t have very many women that are interested in me that I am interested in, that it would change during a zombie apocalypse. Who knows.

Originally women wanted the Alpha Male, now that has kind of gone to the opposite. I don’t know how many women I see with men that the woman couldn’t kick the guys ass. When did we go from the male protector/provider that women wanted to more of the opposite. Now I see a lot of women that are the protector/provider. How many friends do you have that the woman makes more money then the man? Now go back even twenty years and tell me if that ratio was anywhere near the same.

I still think I should have been born in the thirties. I think I fit the look of a 50’s man. Tall, broad shoulders, barrel chest, dark hair, olive skin (when I actually go out in the sun). I wouldn’t know how to classify my looks exactly. I don’t consider myself attractive, then again, how many people do? I have been classified as handsome though. So, what would that make me? Tall, dark, and handsome. See? See? Wrong era, this fucker right here. Now it seems girls, or at least the ones I am interested in, like guys who look like heroin addicts.

Woah…did I go off on a fucking tangent or what? I totally skipped my original intent of this blog. Ok, my original point. In case you can’t tell from my facebook, my blog, shit even Pajiba, I kind of have a thing for a Jibette. Only one in particular.

We chat a lot, about everything. We have a lot in common, she has even said that sometimes I say the same thing she was going to say before she says it. You know, that whole completing someone’s thought? I really like her, like probably too much. She won’t give me her phone number…let me tell you why that’s a good thing.

The alcohol makes me honest…too honest. Were she to give me her number I would likely text message myself into stupidity. In fact, I should really probably have all electronic devices removed from my ability to use them when I’m drunk. For example, last night I sent her six messages on facebook…six fucking messages. Who does that? Rather then showing her how much I like her the only thing I’m accomplishing is making myself look like a fucking crazy loser. I know this, I see this, and yet I have not foot in mouth disorder, more like fucking finger foot disorder.

My hands are honest. I can tell you something in writing ten thousand times better then I can in words. I’ve always been like that. In person when I first meet someone I am shy and quit. Online, I’m me, I’m fucking free. I’m free to say what I’m really thinking, I’m free to say what I’m really doing, my goddamn balls grow to the size of fucking bowling balls. Not to say I don’t have balls in real life, just not the balls that interact with females. See, there I go, off on a fucking tangent again.

A few weeks ago I told myself that I wouldn’t chat with her or send her any messages. I told myself I was starting to look obsessed and that I would just wait for her to send me something. I lasted two fucking hours…two goddamn hours. I saw her online for two hours before I started chatting with her. What the fuck? Seriously? I’ve never been like that, never, ever. I’ve literally probably had like over thirty hours of conversations with her online. I don’t think I’ve even talked to girlfriends that much. I know for a fact that I haven’t ever talked to one for ten hours straight. We’ve had two ten hour chat sessions…I shit you not. I guess one of the biggest things is I can’t tell how much she actually likes me. I know the obvious answer would be of course she does why else would she chat with me for ten hours at a time. However…I see her online and she never sends me a message first. She won’t give me her phone number. She doesn’t really compliment me.

I know that she has had some seriously, seriously fucked up things happen in her life that I can’t, nor have the right, to get into on here. I know she needs time, and time to heal. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t like not knowing what I’m doing. I keep waiting for the day to get online and realize that she's chunked me off her friends list.