Drink Me – A Birthday Toast!

I drank myself to nap last night,
The brown that so holds me in repose,
Scotch,
Bloody scotch,
Medicine,
Wishing that I could drink myself into oblivion,
Into another dimension,
Into another body,
That I may be free from this tyrannical mind,
Infinitely lost,
As my prodigious depression once again,
Sets sights on my spirits,
Triggering a down pouring of neurons that force me to suffer,
My diminished capacity,
To assuage the darkening cloud,
That heralds the arrival of my toxic repressions,
Leading me down the garden path,
So far from joy and delight,
Blinded to it,
Blind and struggling,
Awakening from the temporary relief,
My internal mendacity,
Wreaking havoc on my words,
These words,
That escaped me as I reached for another Don Draper,
A cup of ice,
A lifetime of booze filled remorse,
As if the benign neglect with which I find my soul,
At the bottom of that cup,
Is somehow the truth,
Is this my truth,
My lot,
My destiny,
One from which I cannot run,
I cannot hide?
And now I wonder whether I can survive,
As I fall deeper and deeper into a despair reserved,
For the considered thoughts of intelligent men,
Feeling as if I am less than I am,
Believing that my lot,
Is one deserved,
One that stays with me,
In reserved emotions,
Those tickle the beast within,
My Black Dog,
My seething rage,
My Irish brogue,
With ancestors passed,
Who too found no solace,
At the bottom of a bottle,
I drank myself to nap last night,
Waking even more disturbed than I was before,
Thoughts, feelings, emotions and desires,
Caught in the woven web of personal deceit,
That I cannot face,
For in these moods,
These sinking moods,
Leading down the rabbit hole,
Finding vials with a little note,
DRINK ME,
I no longer want to feel the suppressed enchantment,
Of this rabid dog,
That holds me tight,
As if I shall be leashed,
Inside the worry of my own discontent,
It is not getting better,
I feel,
Oh God how I feel,
I feel, the raging current of these excited tides,
I hurt,
I toil,
I retreat into strife,
Realizing that this is no life,
Not one worth living,
Save for these,
Little morsels of depressions truth,
The hold,
So strong,
That I feel,
I hurt,
I toil,
I fall,
I feign,
I reign as King of Sorrow,
Inside a mind struggling,
To survive,
And YET,
Another year passes and I find,
Myself,
At peace,
Finally,
With me!

Scotch, or no!

I made it!

SDM

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