Not Myself

The problem is that I hated my life a lot more before alcohol. I still don't like it, but it's tolerable.

When I was a teenager I hated myself. Clean and sober. But what self-respecting teenager doesn't hate themselves. The head cheerleader perhaps. But even she is doubtful at best.

In my twenties I switched from hating myself to hating the world. It was a fun obsession. Endless nights. No sleep. Illegible poetry.

There was a brief period of optimism where I went to computer school. That was no easy task getting my parents to agree to that.

Later, went to Europe. Learned I hate pot. And sailing makes me very sleepy.

Worked for a while. Deadlines make you stronger. Turn soft skin to leather.

Still clean and sober.

I lived pretty much everything there is to live that way. Loneliness. Love. Loss. Aggression. Apathy and ostracism. And all the while I always. Always wished I could be different.

Then one night, purely by accident, I was.

It was jus one beer. But that was all I needed then. To change.

I don't know if I hate the world. Or hate myself. Both probably. For different reasons.

But what I've learned from all of it. The so sober and the not so sober moments is that sometimes, some people are better off not being themselves.

This is how I make it happen.