March 18th, 2026

Endless Soup

I think regardless of how you look at it, I'm never going to be rid of basic anxieties around new people, around people I only sort of know. I think that's why alcohol feels so good for me; it gives me that little bit of courage that I otherwise lack. I've been thinking about getting completely sober a lot. I think I'd rather take psychiatric medication for anxiety and depression than continue to self medicate with alcohol. I think it's very possible that if I were to get on an anti-anxiety medication I would feel a lot better.

It occurred to me that I'm scared of blogging. I'm afraid of what I will say and what people will think about it. I'm afraid that it will become obsessive again, but blogging has been exceptionally good for me. I think in this hour of sobriety, I find it difficult to speak with an authoritative voice. I think maybe the submission comes naturally from my tongue. I could will develop a stronger voice because that's what I actually want. I'll make a concerted effort to write with intention instead of merely reflecting myself on to a page. I've done that enough for, at this point, many years. I need to write about something new. A pill could help with this. I would love to write sober, with my full head. I would love for the words to spill from my fingers as easily as they do when I'm drunk. I would love for the paralysis of choice to be removed from my body, and I'm willing to take a pill to remove this.

"No thanks to the endless soup of- apathy, entropy, tearing up the pages of my feelings to nothing and I can't make it stop, a melody, that's effortlessly free, but now I only see, an Empty Diary."