Binge Week Revisited


It wasn’t a good week last week.
I had an escort and 3 binges at strip clubs in NJ.
I don’t like escorts and I don’t like strip clubs.
I don’t like drinking to get drunk.
I thought I was somewhat mentally ready for this,
but I guess not. This is super depressing. I can’t
believe I turned out to become like this. Depression
isn’t an excuse for such bad behavior, but what it’s
not like I’m happy with myself. I thought I was stronger
than this. I know I don’t need like that much sex.
Like maybe a little to survive, if that, but no way like this.
This is a psych-trip that has spiraled downward. It’s not
easy to admit a weakness, beyond the surface level. If
I am lusting for sex and shit, I need to become more
determined to seek the righteous path. I can’t go down
like this. I admit I was really scared, b/c I thought that
this is it, time has run out, I won’t get back on the right track.
And in a way, it’s true, time has run out, and I am not doing
well. How many setbacks can a person take? With this
type of disease, the shame and embarrassment are actually
compounding the chances of relapse. I need to become
revitalized and transcend this BS. Time is like an enemy
when the recovery starts. The start is very hard, and makes
one feel the impossibility of the task. As the days pass, the
worst is over, the emotions come back under control. The fear
and anxiety abate, and it’s time to be vigilant. So how come
it happens? b/c I forget; like a hurricane’s inertia. Warnings
of impeding doom will not help, but only a strong desire for
righteousness will suffice. In the moment urge and compulsion
are strong, so quick and overwhelming, like a big wave that
crashes over me. Only a superior desire for good things, like
Hawaiian song, can shield my spirit. The outlook is not good
and weakness sets in and that physical weakness causes
mental weakness. I guess just don’t give up the fight.

why does goodness, being good, not appeal so much? i need
detail? what’s good? good is good, but what’s good? not
moving the lawn, not cooking, not washing, or cleaning, not
meditating, not this or that. not painting. what’s good?! i can’t
find this strand! i need that i believe. how can I fight the urge to
just cave in and disappear forever into the darkness? it must be
like a computer program thread or something, the simplicity of just
sitting and drinking in a dark place and looking at girls dancing
must be numbing my pain away. of course it is! how can i find a
mind that wants to destroy this habit? how can i be so dumb to
think that there is love there? lust is there. what is that? it’s
pleasure no? pleasure-pain, yin-yang. how much longer?
don’t be scared. why not? i am. i know, i know it’s destroying me.

One thing, I never think about all the bad times at the clubs right
before I’m ready to go, just about the chance to be really
satisfied. This is perverted right? Anyway, that tells me my
intelligence is being hijacked by my hormones. It happens every
time. This tells me I’m in over my head too.