down and low

I think two whiskey-sours is my limit tonight. Given my state of mind lately, I probably should not drink. Alcohol is a depressant, which I don't need any help with.

I'm sitting here waiting for Dave to call, hoping to God he doesn't (but he probably will because that would just be frickin' perfect, wouldn't it?). Sitting here and listening to my "low" playlist on iTunes, songs like 'Drinkin Bout You' by Big&Rich, 'I'll Never Forgive My Heart' by Brooks&Dunn, 'Yesterday' by the Beatles, 'Rock Bottom' by Eminem, and 'Hurt' by Johnny Cash. God I'm so pathetic. A long ago friend once said that it's like I keep hitting my head against a wall because it feels good when I stop. That fits as well as anything.

But tomorrow is church, something to look forward to I guess. Another opportunity for metaphorical cranial damage as it were. Seriously, what little spiritual help I may glean from John Piper's sermon is far outmatched by the torture I go through with the 'what ifs' and 'you can'ts' and all the self-pity mixing with a self-righteous 'it's not fair'. On the one hand, I didn't ask to be hardwired as an emotionally needy leech. On the other, I'm not a kid. I can make choices to try and overcome the bad shit in me.

Growing up sucks.