Revealing the Roots of Behaviors and Addictions
The Liquor is Still Next to the Coffee
On facing my fat and how my friends will react to me without alcohol
I like the peace
in the back seat.
I don’t have to drive.
I don’t have to speak.
I can watch the countryside
And I can fall asleep.
— Backseat, Arcade Fire
Dryuary Day 2
I dreamt of my daughter, Ella, in ballet toe shoes, the kind that are ripped and worn with tattered ribbons. She was twirling around on the carpet. I awoke at 9, then 10, then 10:40.
I’m not drinking today. It’s the first thought to curl up into my conscious mind at the moment of waking. I stretch and roll out of bed in a way I’ve become accustomed, so as not to strain the muscle injury deep in my left gluteus.
Scale — 69.9 kg (154 lbs) This is no surprise. I am not upset about the weight so much as I am about my torpor in doing nothing about it. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be light on my feet. I wonder how much of it is bloat, as if 20 lbs of “bloat” will just fall off me since I won’t be running a keg tap into my mouth soon.
Sweats, shoes — kitchen. All the bourbon, bitters, Irish cream, and empty cans of tonic are still congregated around my coffee press…
