First, thank you all for the kind words and support last night. Everything I wrote was true.

Today has been miserable (except Da Bears won, yay!). I didn’t sleep more than 4 hours last night. I’ve been racking my brain trying figure out what went wrong to keep from feeling like a terrible, worthless human being.

But it finally came to me in the past hour:

CONTROL. I’m normally always in control of myself when I’m socially drinking. I had to had lost enough to raise doubt. I bring this up because I kept thinking that this dude that I didn’t know kept coming up behind me every 2-3 minutes telling they are watching you. And while I was fumbling to figure out a game plan to get that woman back to her girlfriend, I started to worry that this guy was trying to get me away from her so he could have his way. So I finally told him to fuck off.

Turns out that guy was the same one I complained about last night, the manager and/or owner of the bar. The guy that sent 6 cops after me. The guy that I still believe is a racist bitch (and yes, I said it to his face infront of the first 2 cops and they didn’t even flinch...must be on to something).

But, I digress. There are 2 important lessons here:

1) None of this would have happened if the owner/manager had just introduced himself as a person in charge. Instead, I thought he was just some rando looking to take advantage of this woman.


2) I wasn’t in control of the situation because I wasn’t keeping track of how much I had to drink. Counting and cutting myself off after I hit a predetermined number is something I’ve done for over 2 decades. But the last couple of times I’ve gone out (since mid-July, I’ve only been out 4 times, including last night), I haven’t kept count. I haven’t cared enough about myself to do so.

This is going to be hard. Taking care of myself has never been one of my strengths. I take care of others, whether it’s in support of my coworkers, helping my friends and family in need whenever I can, and caring for my two furballs. So I needed to start somewhere and I’ll start with keeping count of what I consume.

And go back to the gym.

...Baby steps, right?


(...maybe try dating again)