merry let's-get-drunk-month

what is it about the holiday season that throws me into a perpetual state of shitfaced? i wouldn't say this "phenomenon" is a common one and probably only resonates with alcoholics and other postgrad youngins who have yet to bear wrinkles and responsibilities. unfortunately, i've come to realize this end of year madness is very unbecoming. i'm committing drunken faux pas left and right and it is SO NOT CHIC.

i find myself texting "i feel like dirt" to my friends nearly every morning as i lay in bed begging the room to stop spinning and my pounding temples to cease knocking because no one's home. and it's no wonder i feel like dirt. dirt probably has a more nutritious diet than what i'm subjecting my pauvre body to: alcohol, fast food, and sudafed. i've hit a bottom of some sort and i can't really explain it to myself. i wish i could be one of those girls who proudly disclose their shame and wear it as a red badge of courage, but i cannot. and they're not crimes worth agonizing over but i'm more proud than i would have it if i had my way. liquid courage makes me a little too courageous. it has me running around acting like a damn, entitled ass, speaking out of turn, making brazen claims to impress the no ones buying me drinks, pretending to be on their level of low intelligence when they hash out cheap lines to compliment me (maybe that's all i'm worth).

to think that i was the one complaining about dudefriend's bad texting etiquette when i'm harassing him with nightly scheduled blasts of illogical messages distastefully strewn together. forget about spelling errors, i'm making up words. of course, this is typical drunk conduct. i'm sure you've been there: that time of night when you're no longer capable of composing a coherent thought and even less capable of transferring that unintelligible nothing onto your phone. but, it's getting out of hand. i have no idea what his tolerance is for this kind of bullshit but it's a surefire way to get any guy running the other way. is this self-sabotage my subconscience's way of telling me something? that was rhetorical.

one message is clear: i have issues. surprise! perhaps it's anxiety that the world might (im)possibly be coming to an end in a few short days. perhaps not. i thought i was on the road to a better place since my October meltdown, but my mind is playing tricks on itself. am i happy or unhappy? content or discontent?

i'm told it's all in good, holiday fun: "finish the year off right; you have the new year to repent for you sins." yet, this festive debauchery isn't so festive. it's regular, old (dark) debauchery. i'm 21 going on 22 and my behavior could facetiously be classified "normal," but cringing at every turn as I'm piecing together the roadmap of what happened the night previous isn't something I want to continue. i'm treading familiar waters decidedly headed toward "hot mess" territory. so let this be a note to self: get it together; quit overindulging and let me remember 2012 in a more dignified light.