Is Denver Becoming Too High Maintenance?

When You Change One Thing You May Need to Change Them All

My favorite running path in Denver takes me through City Park, where I always stop at Duck Lake to look at the black birds (double-crested cormorants) that perch in huge nests which sit atop these twisted goth trees. These are migrating birds. They leave in the fall and return in the spring. When they returned this year I told everyone that I too was going to take off when they took off in the fall. I only half-meant it when I said it back then.

Now it’s almost fall and the birds are half gone already.

Before I even got to Duck Lake today I could feel the shift. It was way too quiet. The leave of absence hit me harder than I expected it to. I couldn’t believe it was already happening.

I recently decided I needed to take a break from drinking. Luckily I haven’t hit rock bottom yet and I hope I can keep it together enough that I never do. I do know that I abuse alcohol. Or it abuses me. Perhaps we have this weird BDSM switch-like relationship going on, I don’t know. I’m not typically even an over-indulger. I can say no to cake. I can say no thanks to cookies. But when it comes to beer I’m like “Give Me! Give Me! Give Me ALL of the BEER!!”

Damn, I love beer.

It’s only been three days. I know three days is nothing to almost all human beings who are not alcoholics, but it’s a lot for people who are alcoholics and plenty for those (like me) who are alcohol abusers. Yet, during these this three-day break from alcohol I’ve been thinking about how I might actually have to leave Denver.

I’m not sure this city is a healthy place for me to be. I think it would be really easy for me to fall back into old habits.; to go out and repeat the same sort of stories over and over. I’m tired of those stories. I’m tired of going to bars, having one-night stands, waking up feeling like shit, eating fried foods just to make it through the day, popping pills that will help me focus, gain energy, and get work done, repeating the same stupid shit all over again.

Also, I may be falling out of love with Denver.

Just like people change and grow so to do cities. Perhaps I’ve learned enough from this place; perhaps it’s time for the basic bitches to take my place as they are making their way here in droves (and honestly I’m over interacting with them).

I don’t know where I’d go. I don’t even know who I am or what I want to be anymore.

I don’t feel lost. I feel misplaced. I know exactly where I am I just don’t know why I’m here.

I’m also a bit burnt out on always writing about sex. I know it’s what you all want, but it’s not what I want. I want more. I want to explore the depths of humanity–body and soul, not just how far you can fit something up a vagina.

So I will be doing that. Of course, I’ll still write about sex stuff. But summer is over. The birds are headed south. It’s time to get shit together. Perhaps even fly somewhere new.

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Maybe It’s Okay to Not Be Better?

or

Words of Wisdom From a Professional Drinker

Yes. I am addicted to shit. Not literal shit, but a bunch of stuff people become addicted to, alcohol mostly. Though, not in an alcoholic way quite yet, more in a binge-drinking sort of way.

I’ve been drinking since a young age. First to numb the pain of growing up in a culture that thought I was too weird, too stupid, too woman to do anything with myself. Second to numb the pain of trauma. Third to numb the pain of being around other people while maintaining a sense of self (aka being able to talk to other people). Fourth to feed my depression because it gets really hungry and loves booze. 5th because beer tastes good.

Blah blah. I could keep going with a ton of reasons, but who cares.

I have drank (drunk?) A LOT.

And I don’t even feel bad about it.

I only want to admit that I do it. Perhaps because I haven’t hit rock bottom. Or maybe that time I drank and got raped was rock-bottom and I just can’t get myself to admit that the drinking was the problem not the rapist… wait. That sentence is wrong. It was for sure the rapist’s fault that he raped.

But anyhoo, back to me, enough about that loser.

I love to drink. Drinking loves me. But perhaps we’re not in the healthiest of relationships? Perhaps we’re a little too dependent upon one another?

I’ve been in Florida for just a few days and my desire to drink has shockingly subsided. Sure, I had 4 beers over like 7 hours earlier today while at the beach, but I could have lived with or without and been fine. I didn’t continue to drink after I woke up from a nap, which I would normally do. So, progress not perfection right?

That’s the other thing though. I’m really getting tired of personal growth bullshit. Can we all just admit that we’re not good at certain things? That we are in fact BAD at certain things? Why do we have to feel this constant need to IMPROVE? I’m not advocating stagnation. I believe we should move more like water in a river than water in a puddle. Yet, if you’ve ever watched a river it does have times where it just chills. It’s okay to fucking chill.

“Transformation”…”Personal Growth”… “Mindfulness”… In the U.S. these concepts are part of an industry… this industry is rooted in capitalism. Trying to improve your spirit is just as much about making money as trying to make yourself prettier. You are already pretty. You already have spirit.

Feeling guilt or shame because you’re not namaste enough will not make you more namaste it will just make you feel guilt and shame.

Do we need any more of that?

I think not.

How does addiction and personal growth interconnect?

Well. How many people feel guilt and shame about whatever the fuck is wrong with them?

Everyone.

Why not just embrace that there is shit wrong with you? Be a fucking chill ass river for a day or month or year or whatever. Maybe stop worrying about BEING BETTER and just be whatever the fuck you are?

It’s at least more liberating for me so far. And my addictions have stopped being so addicting, so perhaps there’s something to “not growing” after all?

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