In the most twisted sense, I miss

how easy it was to make mistakes.

Some people are so reserved and controlled in real life that even four or five drinks won't make them stupid.  Then there are people like me.  Me sober equals you on four or five [or forty] drinks.  It never occurred to me that this could be bad.  I was such a nice, wholesome person.  I really was.  If we had enough money, I could've been a damn good Girl Scout.

But every good thing can be manipulated for evil.  That's the story of humanity.  As relative as "evil" is, I figure if another human being's quality of life takes a dip into hell because of what you did to that person, then what you did probably qualifies as "evil."

I qualified as "evil."

And now that I've quit drinking, I'm having the most difficult time reassembling those pieces of me.  I sense myself overcompensating sometimes to resurrect that spontaneous, free-spirited, adventurous real self.  Before liquor, I never had to try.  I was just her.  All the time.  Bouncing off the walls and happy.  I used corny phrases like "high on life."

On liquor, I was spontaneous, free-spirited, and adventurous about all the wrong things.

So now, post-liquor, I am much too aware of who I can be.  So I keep myself quarantined.  And the one time I didn't, I took a shot of Jager.  How's that for a confession?  I took a shot of Jager and I wanted to be stupid again.  I wanted to make mistakes and deal with their consequences and make more mistakes and deal with more consequences.  I didn't do anything.  I went home early.  Got over it, called it a glitch in the Matrix, moved on.

It is so much easier to admit I'm impossibly flawed and live in that destructive cycle of mistakes and consequences than to say maybe I can appeal to some higher conscience--or God--to help me draw out my inner angel and be a wholly changed person.  Behaving is so much work.  It takes incredible effort for some people.  For me.

I know I should never be scared to live--to be that "wholesome-ly reckless" person we adored.  I should never censor myself.  Gah!  It eats at me to know I have censored myself.  For a few months now.  And let me tell you--life isn't worth living without last-minute adventures.  Spontaneity.  But I've become that dreadful person who hesitates.  I second-guess myself.  It's utterly unattractive and annoying as fuck.

But.. the thing is.. I suffer at the hands of.. this big paralyzing question:

what if it wasn't the alcohol?  What if it was me?