Fuck you, Gentle Reader. Passive-Aggressive enough for you? Damn! When I hit bottom, what resentments I had. Not for people in my past. The fucking therapists at Lakewood, my first real hospital-slash-rehab. (I don't include 'regular' drunken hospital stays and detox stopovers,)
"Write a Gratitude List," they kept saying. "Alright, Cocksuckers," I said to myself, "I'm grateful that you're a fucking asshole. I'm Grateful that this fucking Gratitude List sucks." - That kind of thing.
Pumped up on Librium, I'm surprised I could react so strongly to anything.
Mostly, I didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Too much effort would have been required to give a shit about not giving a shit. But I was grateful for my resentments. They gave me something to feel.
Sobriety sucks. Fuck you. Thank you one passive-aggressive fucking ton.
Am I nicer now? Or are my resentments more veiled?
I resent my sober self, forced by my sobriety to raise myself, to grow up.
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 27)
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