Going crazy. Want to kill myself. I hate my sponsor. I hate God. I hate Alcoholics Anonymous. But it’s too early to drink.
Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous: don’t get me started. It’s the devil. Felt good for a day thinking I wouldn’t be thirsty anymore. Then Isla didn’t text me back. I woke up and understood why people shoot up movie theaters.
Big coyote in the park this morning. Running from something. Kicked out of his pack, out into the atom bomb sunlight. Poor bastard. I still chased him.
I expected her to say no but I didn’t expect her to say nothing. Need to accept that I will die alone and why not right this minute. All week you look forward to a couple days off. You get them and you’re locked in a cell with yourself.
It’s like I’m having a stroke. Like a neurological disorder. I wanted to write “write” as “right.” About to lose control of my tongue. It’s like there are centipedes squirming through the blood vessels in my brain. Like drowning. Like kicking benzos. Have I ever been this crazy before. No. This is a new personal best.
So the goal today is: survive. Make it until your head hits the pillow. Still living: success. You think: stay home, barricade yourself in. That won’t help. There’s an axe here and I’ll put the edge on my neck. I pray and God is not with me. Sometimes you take one step toward him and he takes two steps toward you. Today he runs like the fuckin coyote.
Deep breath. Let go of the melodrama. I need pussy. I need women. But I can’t have them; if I had them I’d be unhappy with them, I’d be afraid of losing them. I’m incapable of being happy. Fine.
Had a fight with my sponsor. I am in an abusive relationship with another man. Arguing with him feels like beating up my dad. This is why women hate me now, because I’m a fucking sub. To my sponsor, to my boss, to everyone. I have nothing and I am nothing. I’m a pathetic servant. A whipped animal.
When I was telemarketing for fake charities I’d talk all day to people who hated me. Just take their hate, take it and take and take it. One Saturday after a shift I took a ride into town with my buddy. We had water balloons. A young girl stood on the sidewalk in a beautiful communion dress. I tossed a balloon out the window. Perfectly compensated for the velocity of the car and nailed her. Her stunned, shattered look for a second as we sped away. Big moment in her life destroyed. And all the hate was gone. I laughed.
Sometimes the way to get through bad shit is to help people. But hurting people works too. Passing on the abuse. This is why people who get molested molest kids. People who get beaten beat their wives, and so on.
Well that will be my second goal then. Not to take this hate and put it on someone else. Instead it goes on the page. Do with it what you will. I’m gonna jerk off and have a burrito.