[Sober Living] 2019 In Review

I have no choice but to be a hypocrite leaving 2019 and launching myself into 2020 with debilitating headaches and nowhere else to turn but two diphenhydramine per day, maybe three, no numb the pain that just won’t stop. If I could do anything else, I would. The over-the-counter medications I take, mockingly prescribed by apathetic doctors, do nothing. What else can I do for this short-term pain? So long as I don’t overdo it, I suppose…

I’ve done my best in 2019 to stay sober.

I’m feeling the diphenhydramine in subtle ways. It will probably only be about ten or twenty minutes before I feel less coherent, and my writing will be sloppier, so I’ll start with saying that at least I did flush away that cyclobenzaprine. It did make me feel stoned, too, but it also had antidepressant qualities that was affecting my personality. This just makes me feel numb, which numbs the pain of the headaches, and lets me go to sleep easier. I was going to wait to take this until after I did some editing, but with the heavy pangs in my brain still rattling around at random, when I reached down in my fridge to grab some water, I felt a knocking that just sucked up all of my motivation and led me down this path earlier than I would have liked.

Will these headaches go away in the next few months?

I have to reply with a complete medical history write-up to my insurance company, basically, a more sterile version of “Tripping on Prednisone,” so I may refer to the contents there and expand on it for my email I’ll write to them to get their help with referring me to a neurologist. It just all feels so useless, though. I’m arguing for my patient care like I’m trying to convince a mountain to move by yelling at it. It’s terrible and I hate it, but there’s nothing else for me to do. I’m stuck with getting terrible headaches every few days that knock the life out of me. I don’t often feel well enough to remain disciplined in my diet, so I’m overeating to feel better.

Anything to feel better.

I feel the subtle numbness kicking into gear. Things are moving slower now in my mind. This is how it felt for me when I’d drink, and when I drank and wrote, my essays would be intense paragraphs outlining specific thoughts much like these are turning out to be. I don’t like having to do this, but there’s no better alternative. Being mockingly prescribed over-the-counter medication by Doctor-Number-One and having other over-the-counter medication prescribed by Doctor-Number-Two “for migraines” yet they do nothing other than act as placebos just leave me feeling like I should just be numb like this more often.

This is the way to start my 2020s.

Addiction for me has always been being pulled down into this spot I’m falling in right now, where my thoughts are darker, my future seems dimmer, and everything is more nihilistic. When I am feeling better, physically and mentally, I take a more absurdist approach to life. Life is a joke either way. Absurdism is just nihilism with a sense of humor. My legs are going to sleep. This feels nice. My perception of the music is slowing down because I know the music is not actually slowing down. I’ve heard this song a hundred times. My throat is drying.

My mind wandered away from this essay.

I’ve returned to finish with the remaining focus I have before it drifts away into that sort of numbness that isn’t criminal for the average person, but for an addict like me, is criminal because this is where I would live if I could. Having nothing and living in excess. I would want nothing more than nothing in this sort of state. In this state, I want not to contribute to society, but just self-destruct without another word to write. There is nothing positive here. Yet I must reside here until the worst of the headache waves depress themselves so I can live normally.

This is the darkness I don’t share with others.

I secretly hate it all and so I need to shed all that doesn’t satisfy me because the more displeasure there is in this reality, the more likely I will return to this space. I want to take two more diphenhydramine and then two more. I want nothing more than to feel nothing. The tinglings of my neck, the blunt-force implications massaging the space where my neck meets my head with a baseball bat, don’t feel good. I don’t know if it’s because I cracked my neck so much when I was younger. I don’t know how this all started. Was it too much stress at work or avocational aspiration?

I feel the ballooning of the blood vessels around my brain.

I’m trying to calm those nerves down psychologically because there is nothing that will actually hurt me physically about these sensations unless I let them hurt me, or at least, that’s how I’ve applied logic to these anxious moments. All I want to do is have these feelings, all feelings, stop. If taking two more diphenhydramine will accelerate this process and force me into a slumber in the next few hours rather than waiting a few more hours, I think I would prefer that, because the alternative is sitting here, waiting for the pain to decrease, the flashes of sensation to slow their waves across and around my head.

I feel like that numbness is nearly here.

If I stand up to go take more diphenhydramine, I’m sure I will have that sort of drunken walk, not quite fast, not quite slow, where my reality perceives itself differently than it actually is, where I live my life more subjectively, further away from sobriety’s objective consideration of reality, and closer to a reality free of pain.

If only this were ennui, then it’d be fine eventually.

Endtable:
Quotes: None.
Sources: The diphenhydramine streaming through my body.
Inspirations: I thought about what to write about for a review of my sobriety in 2019 but when the headaches rang louder than that, my addictions kicked in.
Related: Other Sober Living essays.
Picture: WordPress screencap of some Sober Living pictures with the title written in lime green.
Written On: December 20th, 2019 [26 minutes, from 5:07am to 5:33am, while listening to large prime numbers, WordPress]
Last Edited: December 20th, 2019 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]
My big goal is writing. My most important goal is writing "The Story." All other goals should work toward that central goal. My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame some fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. I'm not better than you and you're not better than me. Let's strive to be better every day.