The Old Me in Current Events

I had told my therapist before he ended his practice that I wanted to be like the old me. That’s a complicated thing to get into on Prosebox but after my last entry, I am asking myself what would the old Tom do? He could handle anything.

First of all, it’s still too complicated to explain who he is but if I was him right now and handling my current situation(s) the way he would I would be day drunk. I would be on Facebook making sassy, shady posts about Karamjeet and my last job that a lot of people would find funny. That attention would be hitting me like a high and I would be feeling so much better right now. From that high, however, I would lose all selfie control and become fully Instagram focused. The drunken hours of me editing my face and body to look nothing like myself would eat away at my self-esteem. My self-confidence would only come from likes and comments again. That high would only last until I saw somebody with a better face and better body and a better life than mine. At least I would feel happier for a couple of minutes.

In this scenario, as old Tom, I would also have the same circle of friends. I would attract people like them anyway. I would be up to my knees in their problems. I’d be more involved in their lives than I would be with my own. In my desperation to avoid my problems, I would be quite the social butterfly. I would run out of money and be dipping into my credit just a few days after payday. I only have one more payday so my finances would become another problem that I would hide from. My anxiety would be hard to control at this point because of all the problems that I am trying not to think about. Thus, I would start soothing myself by treating myself to more impulsive purchases. I’d buy something pretty, I’d eat more takeout and I would buy more alcohol because what does the old Tom say to the god of debt? Come at me bro! I would be putting away my latest purchase right now and texting with a toxic friend and I would not have any of my problems on my mind. At least I would feel happier for a couple of minutes.

Speaking of old Tom and takeout… he thought that he would be twenty forever. Fat, salt & sugar was all he ate just like everybody else. Society wasn’t designed to make him care. He knew it was bad for him but he got to stare at posters of happy farm animals while he waited for his cheeseburgers and fries. He didn’t care about what he put in his body. He ate whatever was cheap and instant. He didn’t care what he drank, he only drank what tasted good. He didn’t care about how much he smoked, he was chainsmoking. I would be feeling bloated and gross from my lunch right now. I would be crashing from my day drinking and my chest would be burning from my chainsmoking but at least I would feel happier for a couple of minutes.

There is no moral to this weird entry. I’m just wrestling with my demons right now and I only want to do the things that used to make me feel good. I want to get drunk, take sleazy selfies, smoke like a chimney with my toxic friends, quit veganism and eat 5 cheeseburgers… but I know that none of that would make me happier in the long run. Complaining and then doing nothing to make things better was actually all that the old Tom did. Maybe that is the moral of the story here?

I am going to buy a bottle of wine though. Sorry about it lol. I don’t know why I feel so much pressure to be perfect.

Last updated May 10, 2019