Breathing my Mind into Your Face

I’m sad. I have this seasonal depression light on, but still sad. I told my wife I was going to work on not getting high so much. This tapering was to begin December 1st, but I’ve gotten high every night to start the month. I also decided to get addicted to cigarettes and nicotine pouches called Zyn. She doesn’t know about that since I’m so relentless about my handwashing and breath upkeep. I have to endure the few days of withdrawal to get back to a drug free equilibrium. Or at least a drug reduced equilibrium since I’m still taking Adderall and Lexapro. There’s so many things I can blame other than myself. I hate my job even though my wife tells me how lucky I am to have a high paying job that enables me to work from home, go to the gym from 8:30-9:30 and do about 35 hours of work a week. I hate that I’m not helping people and frequently feel unscrupulous by delivering a product that isn’t aligned with the sales pitch. She thinks that whatever job I find would have unhappiness tradeoffs and that the job isn’t going to make me happy. She’s right.

I can’t blame the state of world events or my circumstances for unhappiness. I have to blame myself, after all, it’s me I hate. Every time I chew up 30 mg of edible and sit on the porch to inhale cigarettes I lose another battle of will. Every time I tell myself I’m not going to snack at night then make myself an ice cream sundae with cookies, candy, and chocolate syrup I lose. When I envision a successful tomorrow then don’t adhere, I fail myself and my family. My kids are being shaped by my behavior every day. I can’t expect them to succeed in spite of me. Understanding that doing something entrepreneurial and putting my financial comfort at risk is the right thing to do but allowing my fear to prevent execution makes me sad. Every day I’m sad my life expectancy suffers. All this weed and nicotine intake will kill me sooner. It’s slow suicide that I can blame on shitty genetics. Have hope tonight will be the first night I don’t get high and watch TV by myself until late. I’ll go to bed at nine, read my book, endure the withdrawals that will make me an asshole. Eventually I’ll transform into the person I want to be.