Being Your Own.
Writing is a fucking pain in the arse at the minute so please excuse the long break between posts. I’ll try to do another this week.
I’m on my 20th week of runstreaking and have averaged over 62 miles a week in the same pair of Nike trainers. Running hasn’t been fun of late. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m leaving it until later in the day and it seems like a chore. It’s just a phase. Hopefully.
I haven’t drank alcohol in 5 months and I feel amazing.
When I drank I’d spend hours at the weekend in a pity party and I was the only one invited. I’d play Nutshell by Alice in Chains from the MTV Unplugged set when I was feeling down. Since I was a fucking dickhead the line “If I can’t be my own I’d be better dead” was somehow commendable in my mind.
“If the world isn’t going to fucking bend to my will then I’ll just drink it all away and be the fucking hero in my own sad universe!
The truth is that being your own is a fucking choice. You don’t have to be what society expects you to be. You don’t have to be a beaming, radiant, beacon of joy and virtue. “Being yourself” means nothing other than “be who you’ve been pretending to be ever since I’ve known you!”. If you’ve been acting out the role of a shoplifting sex pest, then STOP FUCKING BEING YOURSELF AND GET HELP NOW
I hated myself for so long for being a freakish loner but it’s in my nature to be an introvert, so what’s the point in hating that? That hatred hasn’t made me any more extroverted.
As a teenager I didn’t enjoy the company of strangers. When I hit my 20’s I had to use alcohol as an anesthetic to make other people seem tolerable. I was going against my will and living a life that wasn’t my own really. I wish I had the balls to just live the life I naturally wanted for myself at the time.
I do like the company of others when it is natural. It’s just when others say “You need to go out more! Socialise more!” that I think “You need to go and fuck yourself more.”
I accept who I am now. I am my own. And if the world does not like me then the world can get fucked with it’s Gin O’Clock’s and it’s insidious celebration of everything alcoholic.
I ran 5k tonight. That’s 138 days of running in a row now and 2000 kilometres.