I went to a coffee shop to reward myself for having got out of bed and going to my therapy. She said that I needed to reward myself for achieving things rather than telling myself off for not doing other things. She wondered if drinking was a reward. I said no, it was so whatever you have to do that day you can do it slightly separated from it. Like the psychoanalytical theories of the horror film, you are regressing from a safe distance. With alcohol you are interacting with your daily duties but from a safe distance. Of course more often than not you do not complete your daily duties, or you do so at subpar performance, and you binge and you go to bed feeling sick and wake up feeling worse. But anyway. A reward it is not. A coping mechanism it is. A bad one. But an easy one.
I had to check something for someone today and the result is not what they deserved. I'm devastated for them. So I'm drinking. So maybe it won't hurt so much. Wonder how many of my daily duties I'll get done today. When something shit happens to someone you love it seems to hurt that much more. The feeling is keener, more raw. You cannot temper it because it is not yours to temper. You want to help but the futility of your actions and/or words glares so bright it distracts you from your intentions. So I'll just sit here and cry and drink and cry for what good it can do. And hope, and through a drunken haze it seems fairly possible, that it will not hurt this much for very long.
