walking across the williamsburg bridge i was in love. with the city, i mean.
all those people on bikes. if i lived in brooklyn i would not be struggling over bumpy concrete alone. i’d be with my people. MY. PEOPLE. mouthy new yorkers. fearless queers. tough bikers. people who talk fast & mean what they say. in brooklyn i wouldn’t be too intense. i wouldn’t be too much.
but there are no jobs & i have forgotten how to be in new york. and like it or not, my life is in pittsburgh. for now, anyway. i’ve already spent a month of this year away from home, and i’m planning to be on the road for at least two weeks, probably longer, for my zine tour (if it works out! still not totally sure).
i am hurting right now. i did something awful before i left and i don’t know how to make it right. this awful thing was in direct response to something awful that was done to me. but still. leaves me feeling very fucked up & shaky & unlovable & alone in the world. even though i know it is (mostly) not true.
i should probably stop drinking. again.
see, the thing is, i am not physically addicted to alcohol. for this, i am eternally grateful. however, since i grew up in an alcoholic and violent family, i feel like as long as i am not as bad as what has been done to me, i am okay.
and on one level, that makes sense. on one level, i hate the person i love when he is scared of me, when he thinks i am acting inappropriately, when he says i am out of control. because who ever said that in my behalf? because whoever intervened on my behalf? because who ever gave a fucking shit if i felt safe? no one. and i feel like if i could handle situations that were far scarier, and far more inescapable, and far more violent, for over fifteen unrelenting years, as a child–then he can deal with one or two bad nights. i feel that’s not too much to ask.
but on another level, i know that’s wrong. i know that i have failed him & i have failed other people & i have failed my younger self, who promised, i will never be like this, when i grow up i will never do this to anyone. i know that while my drinking is not out of control, i am out of control when i am drinking. i know that my own anger is so huge as to be uncontainable. yet i contain it most days. and sometimes i want some acknowledgement of how hard that is, i want someone to acknowledge that and someone to validate how much i struggle, every day, to be a good person, and to rise above my past. my ex-best friend came from a similar background, and he used to say, “we are nowhere near as crazy as we have every right to be.” a lil’ grammatically disjointed, sure. but it was so comforting. so, i know where you are coming from. so much like, we can get out together. & of course we didn’t. of course you can’t escape the crazy. but sometimes, sometimes, you can try.
& sometimes you forget that you’re trying, and you do really fucked-up shit. and you can’t undo it. and you can’t do anything besides say you’re sorry and say it won’t happen again and try to make it right while knowing it will never really be all right. and that’s awful.
i don’t know what i’m saying with this. i don’t know who i hope will read this or what i think they will get out of this. i do know that reading the zine “filling the void: interviews about quitting drinking” this morning was really illuminating. it scared me, how much i related. you can order here but i think cindy’s really busy these days, so you might wanna get it from another distro. (i got mine at bookthugnation in brooklyn!)
i still get a lot of letters about sobriety from people because of an article i wrote in my zine in 2008. i have been un-sober for a year now. at first it was really fun but it has taken a much more sinister turn as of late. i don’t know how else to deal with my social anxiety, though. i don’t know how to leave the house and socialize with more than 4 people without wanting a drink. thoughts?