A mile in my shoes...

Do you ever think of a title before you think of what you want to write? I thought of one walking to the liquor store this morning. It is a mile walking to and from the closest liquor store. I have been obsessing over this trip to the store for several days. I didn't drink this weekend, but I knew my mom and dad had to go this morning because he had a colonoscopy scheduled and she was driving him. I debated if I had time to go to the liquor store and back since they were supposed to be done around 10 but probably would be going to breakfast after. My dad is a huge baby about not being able to eat the day prior.. I have to fight the urge to say that I have gone 5 days without eating, so one day is nothing. But whatever.. liquor stores open at 10, so I would have to count on them not coming straight home if the place is close. 

My thought walking home is that I wish they could spend a few days inside my head. My parents are very much the type to believe alcoholism as a choice. I think they fall into the fallacy that drinking is fun. It honestly was never fun. My dad said at some point I should stop justifying my behavior by saying I need alcohol to handle my depression. I should just use other coping skills. I wish he realized that coping skills don't come naturally. I mean my parents never taught them. My mom vented to me about my brother and dad. My dad was silent and handled things by picking at his skin and occasional outburts of anger. I was not raised to handle feelings. I am ill equipped to handle the depression I feel. I will not say my family has less problems, but I do know I am the only one to repeatedly attempt suicide. I am the only one to go inpatient multiple times, so if they have the same level of feelings.. I am the one too weak to handle them. 

I wish they could see inside my head. I wish they could see the amount of time I spend obsessing over getting to the liquor store. I wish they could see the amount of time I spend trying to figure out how I could even plan suicide. They could see the existential crisis that suicide plans create.. will I go to heaven? hell? Not exist at all? Those questions haunt me. Liquor takes this away. But then they don't know the obsession that comes with drinking.. when? where? how much? I think about why i should quit and why I should continue. Nobody would choose this way of thinking. Nobody would choose this if they knew another way to handle it. 

I don't know.. I just wish they could see the lack of logic in my thoughts. I would say I want to quit but can't.. except I don't want to quit? I cannot imagine life without these intrusive, obsessive thoughts. I cannot imagine handling these thoughts without some self destructive behavior. I cannot imagine LIFE. This isn't life. It is existence. I cannot imagine a fulfilling life. I feel like time is too slow, and I cannot kill enough time to make it ok. Bur none of this is easy to explain to anyone. It is a feeling and not a logical thought. I wish they could spend time in my head and understand that I don't just choose this for fun. Nothing is fun. A happy life is something I cannot even imagine. I am trying so hard to believe it is possible.