Shit Happens - Lessons learned so you don't have to

SO THIS IS CHRISTMAS. OR THANKSGIVING. OR MONDAY.

So what's the reason for you being at the bar today? Is it a special occasion? Maybe it's a holiday and you've decided to pop in for a quick nip before seeing the family. Maybe it's a Band of Horses 'Funeral' moment and you're avoiding the family. You all know the song 'Funeral' by Band of Horses, right? No? No of course you don't. Fucking children, all of you (Hey, Shakey! I didn't know the song either until you played it for me incessantly. I mean lovingly). Basically, the song maps out how every event you go to is a funeral after a fashion, especially family-centric events. So maybe you're posted up at the bar to avoid what you know will be a shitshow of a day if you make your way to the family homestead. Or maybe it's just been a shitty day. Or a great day. Or a mediocre day. The point is, you have myriad excuses to find yourself at the bar and none of them are the true reason you find yourself staring through the bottom of another pint glass. No, the reason you're here again on what might be a day that ends in a 'y' is because you have a need that only the other patrons of this establishment can provide: a need to feel superior. A need to feel better than.

We know, how dare we sit in judgement of you. Always remember we only do it out of love and vast amounts of personal experience. We've spent countless night wondering why we've shown up at our pit of despair when there were myriad options to pass the time, most of which would lead to a good night's rest. Plus, take this as a salve. We're going to get harsher in the next paragraph. No, you forsook the opportunity to avoid be alone with your thoughts because the sharpest knife in your arsenal is your own thoughts, and tonight isn't a night you can be alone with them, because the wounds from the last time are still too raw. So here you sit, on your favourite barstool, downing your second, third, fourth, you've lost count pint and observing. Observing the small indiscretions of the other locals. Watching as they start to spiral the way you're avoiding spiralling. Watching them sink deeper into whatever new drama they've thrust themselves into to avoid facing themselves.

So here you are again, on what might be a day that ends in a 'y' intently, amusedly watching unfortunate circumstances unfolding around you for one specific reason: You are an addict. Not for the alcohol. That's just a symptom of the disease (like the anger, like the hatred, like the violence). No, you're an addict, a junkie for the drama. The increasingly more convoluted drama that binds all you addicts together in this two thousand square foot establishment. And it is the worst addiction because it is so easily obtained. It literally is available by just showing up in this one location on any given day, and all it costs is a bit of time. Oh, and a tiny bit of your soul. Because it isn't enough to just observe the convoluted messes unfolding around you, you need to be a part of it. You let yourself get pulled in to the ever-undulating wave of hellish dramedy because it feels better than drowning in your own self-loathing. It's better than feeling that weight on your chest that threatens to hold you down until you drown in a river of your own tears. This, this circle-jerk of misery is the better alternative to being left with your own thoughts that betray you at every occasion. Instead, focus on Patrick, who's still fucking his ex-girlfriend Marsha behind her current boyfriend's back. Give Franklin a hug to quell his tears brought on by another undiagnosed manic episode before he lashes out at you for being a complete fuck up. Pat Travis on the back as he debates leaving his boyfriend who came close to hitting him, then wait for him to scream at you for insinuating yourself in his relationship.

And the joy is this won't be an isolated incident. These exact scenarios will play out exactly the same way each and every time you need to avoid yourself. Because yes, the walls of your local do indeed bleed insanity and it's seeped into every regular that frequents it. And it's exactly this insanity that you find so addictive. This constant, infuriating madness that repeats every single visit that you hate with every fibre of your being but also can't quit because the hit burns so good; the rationalization that you are indeed better than these sick, deluded fucks. But this is your delusion, that somehow you're above their petty repetitiveness. You're not. You're just as trapped in this cycle as they are, your role being that of victim, of whipping boy, of miscreant, of freak, of unworthy.

You're not, you know?

You are not unworthy.

You are not unworthy of decency.

You are not unworthy of compassion.

You are not unworthy of comfort.

You are not unworthy of forgiveness.

This is maybe the hardest lesson to learn in this whole journey we're on together. Because your own mind tells you you're unworthy, which is why you allow this constant abuse to happen.

We're here to tell you that you are worthy. You are allowed to be treated as a human being, and the first step in that happening is treating yourself as a human being. You need to forgive yourself for all the things you've done to make you think you are a bad person. They don't make you a bad person, they just make you a person. We, all of us, are made up of a multitude of experiences, both positive and negative, and we have to live with the consequences of our actions. But barring a few truly abhorrent acts, what we do is no more nor no less than anyone else has done. This doesn't make us better than anyone else, but it certainly doesn't make us worse. We know these words are hard to hear ... read ... but they are the truth, and the sooner you accept them the sooner you'll stop putting yourself in situations where you're made to feel less than.

Look, we'll give you a head start:

We forgive you.