So it has happened again. Back in my 20s, I used to have a nasty habit. I never feel the need for confrontation, ever. Sometimes someone can force my hand by not leaving me the fuck alone. At which time I normally will just walk away. It’s not that I’m afraid of confrontation, I am afraid of what I might say and do. I’m Black and Irish, when I was born and the doctor smack me on the ass, I followed him home and burnt his house down, lol. I have a shitty temper, so I avoid confrontation AT. ALL. COST. I’m not myself when I’m angry and I rarely remember what I have done when I’m pushed too far. My last “real” job ended with me telling my boss “fuck you, I quit” and walking out of his office. I didn’t realize what I had done until I parked my car and walked in the house.
To combat my temper, I normally will either walk away, write in my journal or (now) blog to get shit off my chest. That’s in my 30s. In my 20s however, I had a habit of keeping it all in. When I would drink the ppl who have pissed me off would get random drunk dials or (later) and worst, drunk text. They would be riddled with profanity and would be the nastiest shit I could think to say to that particular person. Because it takes a LOT for me to trust a person, when someone does something to me it cuts deep. Most ppl didn’t know how bad they hurt me until 2AM Sunday morning when I would go on my VODKA induced rampages. Most of the time because I had been holding it in for so long the person rarely knew why they were getting the call/txt. So it comes off looking like I’m nuts. A lot of friendships and flings ended this way. As I got older I thought it was Vodka that made me lose control, so I stayed away from it for years. These last few weeks, it turns out. It’s not Vodka. It is any alcohol that I consume like I’m a Frat boy. I had been having a shitty couple of weeks and TV Guy (whom I have been speaking to a lot recently) had started lying to me again. I called him on it. He, of course, lied some more. I dropped it. I then went to my Grrlfriend’s house to help her pack (she’s moving to another state). I was drinking my weight in Bacardi Gold. At midnight, I figured I’d call TV Guy to “chat”. I woke up to a text from him saying “This is why I hate when you drink”. I looked through my text history and was horrified by what I read. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been but I hated how needy I came off and it made look like an angry, bitter, bitchy drunk. I didn’t want him to know I still care. Not to mention he will not take the blame for his actions and blame it all on me drinking. I’ve decided when he called/txt again, I would ignore it, at least for a while. Ugh, I’m going back to blogging more because if I keep this up, my head will explode from embarrassment alone.