6/8

Sometimes it feels like the earth shat you out and there's no meaning to nothing and no rightness to it either. We're all a swarm of meaningless, dull, feckless beasts that plough on through the strains of life for no foreseeable reason. What light at the end of the tunnel. Life's shit and then you die.
Hell I wasn't always this negative and cynical, but I guess I have lived by the sensibility of that last line. I was never worried about excess. Infact I always had ingrained in me a perpetual fear of too little; if I ate too little I'd get skinny and die, it was always too little that threatened me. I was accustomed to excess. Both my parents did everything in excess; they'd go all out when hosting parties, they'd have mountains of food and fountains of drink, they really did put on a good party. My father used to race down country roads with his driving buddies at 4 in the morning. My mother died an alcoholic.
There was excess all around me when young, I guess that's why I was used to it.
Anyway, I shouldn't complain about my lot too much, most of my demise was self-inflicted.
My job is still active, its paying somewhat, at least. I've been sober for almost a week now, which is something.

All my friends, well, my few friends - the ones whose advice I could actually count on - they reckoned that my wife set off my drinking bouts and depression. I never bought it at the time, but looking back, there may have been right. I remember we had instances when I moved away - we were on a 'break' - and I was living with a mate, or my parents, I was always on the straight and narrow. And if I hadn't completely cut out drinking, I had certainly toned it down. Then we made up, had sex and by the next night I was drunk again. Well. Doesn't make logical sense, but then humans are illogical.
Anyway, I'm going to get through this tall four-pack then settle down to dream, and hopefully rebuild the shack my life has become.