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of smoking and drinking
Sep. 28th, 2013 05:46 pmI haven't smoked that much in 6 months. While I tell people I've quit, I still turn to a stick or two (max) whenever the days get too tough and they still never fail to clear up my mind and help me get through another round of these depression attacks. It's my perfect excuse to have a reason to hate the way I am; a perfect opportunity to get mad at how pathetic I am for relying on little sticks of nicotine to solve my problems.
It is also during these moments of being so horrible that I get people to care. People usually don't, after all. I've been so used to understanding the situation of everyone around me that I forget to remind them to understand me, too.
And so I temporarily get by.
I've also realised that drinking has given me an excuse to air out all of the pent up frustration.
It has helped us clear out a lot of things for this relationship, no? After all, if I haven't drank a bottle of vodka that one night I drunkenly decided to kiss you, I don't think you wouldn't have pursued me anymore. Our first fight also ended as I—aided with the magic that is a few bottles of beer—spilled my entire heart out as I spoke of how difficult it is for me still to find a place in your life. Thank you for caring enough to listen and to care about what I had to say. And thank you so much for understanding and being sorry. That was all I needed for I have rarely had people tell me those words: "I'm sorry."
Really, thank you for making it feel like this is worth the risk. And I hope that in finally breaking the silence, I'll stop having a reason to turn to smoking.
It is also during these moments of being so horrible that I get people to care. People usually don't, after all. I've been so used to understanding the situation of everyone around me that I forget to remind them to understand me, too.
And so I temporarily get by.
I've also realised that drinking has given me an excuse to air out all of the pent up frustration.
It has helped us clear out a lot of things for this relationship, no? After all, if I haven't drank a bottle of vodka that one night I drunkenly decided to kiss you, I don't think you wouldn't have pursued me anymore. Our first fight also ended as I—aided with the magic that is a few bottles of beer—spilled my entire heart out as I spoke of how difficult it is for me still to find a place in your life. Thank you for caring enough to listen and to care about what I had to say. And thank you so much for understanding and being sorry. That was all I needed for I have rarely had people tell me those words: "I'm sorry."
Really, thank you for making it feel like this is worth the risk. And I hope that in finally breaking the silence, I'll stop having a reason to turn to smoking.
