A little bit about me -- I'm in my mid-to-late-20s, male, single, recently graduated college, and I quit drinking about a year and a half ago. I never really considered myself an addict; there was never a point where I wanted to quit but I couldn't and it never interfered with work or school. I just woke up one day and told myself, "I don't want to do this anymore," so I just stopped.

The problem, for me at least, is that I live in a relatively rural part of the world. There's not a lot to do here on Friday night other than go to the bars, which never really bothered me anyways because I work nights anyways and don't really like crowded scenes. Most of my free time is in front of my computer, I've recently started getting into distance running as a hobby, and I like playing board games when I can. All of this is fine except for the fact that I can't really seem to make friends in those mutual areas of interest without alcohol anymore.

I signed up for meetup, which seems like a great way to meet new people, and I'm sure it is, in bigger cities at least. But around here, both the closest board game meetup and run club are an hour and a half away. It seems like everyone around here just wants to meet up to drink, and maybe do some other stuff along the way. (Don't get me started on making my own events here -- crowded bars already give me anxiety so organizing my own meetup with people I've never met before would be a new, special type of hell)

I think at least part of this is compounded with the fact that since I graduated, I've had a hard time making new friends. I work a very isolating job, and teetotaling only further compounds the issue that I haven't met very many new people. It's something I've thought a lot about while searching for a partner as well -- I can't/don't want to meet people at bars, and I don't really find much use out of dating apps.

Sorry if this is unorganized or hard to read, it's just a lot of thoughts I've had over the past year.

edit: another part of it too is that, since I quit without the assistance of AA or any support group, I don't have any like-minded people to do things with.

my head is aching,
day four in sobriety.
is it the drugs or every-
thing that runs about my dreams
all the people in my night-
mares never let me sleep.
my angry father, my old
lover, or my mother's screams.

i go to bed at noon
and i wake up at three.
no power left, make some coffee
just whatever's cheap.
folgers tastes like cigarettes,
a cup of apathy.
wanna sleep inside a noose
on a dramatic tree.*

eyes on gucci cus
they're catching bags
they're getting dark, like the
stones came, painted them black
i wanna move to where the dems are at.
to the palm trees and the medicine.

i fantasize about a booked flight,
goodbyes, and a packed bag.
fresh check, laptop,
in my backpack
new friends, new home,
and a black lab.
but that's all in the clouds
and my drugs are a jetpack.

but now i'm sober
and i'm jetlagged.
and now she's back
turning my dreams bad
woke up, aching head,
and a hurting back.
dig in my closet
for a white bag.

if i'm lucky it's a heart attack.

• this line isn't mine, wish it was though, i love how self-aware it is when it comes to the hyperdramatic bullshit i always write. would love to write some more stuff in this style.

oddly enough, it's from a game grumps episode of super mario galaxy lmao

maybe adding that and fixing the meter in these. i feel like the meter in my sober stuff is really jumpy - i can hear the different parts in my head but i don't think im piecing them together well.

have i ever done post-drunken poetry before?

i've got to be breaking some sort of rule with the amount i've been spamming this site over the last four hours.

I'm gonna go make breakfast and take a few days away to compensate.

sorry. thanks for listening.

much love

i woke up after
three hours of sleep
took a look around my room
and everything was tinted green
had a sobering reminder about
why i shouldn't drink
i get caught up in the moment
and try too hard not to think.

i'd do anything to go numb,
i'm afraid of that side of me.
it's hard, i hate myself
when in the middle of sobriety.
the room is tinted yellow as
the sunlight slips in quietly
i'm at a fork in the road,
man, i gotta choose carefully.

to the left a road of headaches,
heartache, a masochistic fantasy
take everything the hard way.
drunken, spinning memories
thinking of the good days,
accepting they're behind you
and your options won't change.
you're numb but somehow bitter
life is shorter, and it starts to fade.

off right a path of effort and torment,
pushing through the years of shit
that you drink just to forget.
the subtle kisses on your forehead
are bullets of a war chest
you're naked and afraid and
your perspective's all distorted
tryna shake your obsession with the morbid
it's been about a year since you last felt worth it.

and say you choose the better
of the two, here's the evil thing.
the second road is always there,
quiet, calm, and glistening.
internal scars and all the
hurt will start to dissipate
just share another secret,
close your eyes, and disintegrate

you're still quite young,
there's time to do the right thing.
maybe depression in aesthetic
isn't really worth you dying
and you won't find steady love
by telling everyone you're crying
that just attracts the broken, you
need something solid and inspiring
to all of you who noticed,
heard my wishes and my wailing

i'll switch to water, hope
that better starts prevailing