Sober truths

The weekend was a whirlwind of drunk days and drunker nights, people I dont know sleeping on the floor of our apartment, someone I know even less sleeping next to me in my bed. At the time it was all a fantastic idea, who doesnt love a weekend where they can just let loose and party day and night? But come monday I was not proud of myself. I had not been sober for seventy two hours and the reality of that hit me, hard, harder than a headache and a shakey morning. I do this to myself more than I should. Its easier for me to be drunk then sober, a lot of the time, and that is something I am not proud of, but its the truth.

I know we often talk about feeling like a bad feminist sometimes when we do things that make us ashamed, and waking up with a strnager in my bed, getting up to find more strangers in the living room and looking in the mirror to see the worlds largest love bite on my neck and make up smeared over my face was certainly enough to spark those guilty, sick feelings off again. Looking at myself in that mirror, I was ashamed.

Its not the alcohol, its not the drugs, I am not addicted to any of those things, I am addicted to not being me. When I am high I feel like I am this girl with nothing to worry about except making sure there is always music playing. I float around like I have not a worry in the world and other people seem to believe it too. I can stay awake like this for hours, days, nights where sober I would be pacing my room shaking the bad dreams from my head.

I am good at forgiving, I have forgiven people who tore my life apart and threw it at me to piece back together, but for some reason I can't forgive myself. I am not a bad feminist, we are not bad feminists for making mistakes. But where I am another womans best friend and ally, I am my own worst enemy. And I know that this will destroy me faster than anything done to me by the hands of a man. So I sit here asking myself, why do I allow this?