2 months--no drugs or alcohol

That’s funny, I was just watching that the other day.

Hehe. I should have known you would have seen it. I just stumbled on it after reading this thread so I thought it was appropriate.

Anyway, good luck with whatever you’re abstaining from. I’m not sure I get what you’re doing but you seem to be getting something out of it.

I sense that you actually forget your own lack of self worth and think that disrespect is actually respect again. That applies to all the things worth disrespecting. Isn’t it great to have confidence fill you that you don’t deserve?

Definitely. When I first started this thread, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to quit the drugs or not. I knew that I wanted to experiment with 2 month stints of abstinence and see how I feel. Now I definitely know that I want to quit all caffeine, alcohol, and cannibinoids. I know I want to quit all drugs and alcohol for at least a year and more realistically a year and a half. ← This wasn’t inspired by the 2 month experiments (at least not totally) but by the reprogramming of my own values.

Ever since the separation and the change of career, I’ve been on this major self-improvement kick. So far it’s working.

That’s cool (I guess) but have you ever thought that you might actually need MORE drugs and alcohol? I like to use Occam’s Razor - the simplest solution is often the right solution, principle. If the drugs and alcohol are having a negative effect on your life, perhaps you need more drugs and alcohol, not less?

I’d keep away from all that ‘self-improvement’ garbage, too. It will only lead you to being addicted to exercise, neurotic calorie counting and hours and hours of reading labels in supermarkets… or worse… you may end up joining a gym cult or having your own nutrition guru which, we all know, is a gateway to veganism.

That makes absolutely no sense.

I may need you to hold me back, Chakra.

OK, try this. Are the drugs the problem or are the drugs an attempt to mask the problem? If the drugs are used to mask the problem – and they’re not working – then a valid assumption may be that you need more drugs. Amirite?

I was obviously joking initially but realizing the drugs are not the original problem but a symptom is worth thinking about. A person I respect once said “If people asked themselves ‘What do I know that I really don’t want to know?’ and then listened to what came up, they could prevent so many games we play on ourselves.” I couldn’t quite get the purpose of abstaining then returning, abstaining, then returning but each to his own. Anyway, I’m glad to hear things are looking on the up and up. What’s the new career? Do you like it better?

Well, put it this way: The drugs are both masking the problem and causing the problem. They numb me from the symptoms but in turn make the source of the problem worse. It’s like a heroin addict who starts on heroin to get away from some pain, but thereby makes the pain so much worse when it comes time to withdraw. So I think more drugs would only worsen the problem.

Unless your talking about meds. Are you suggesting I seek out prescription medication? ← Not more drugs per se, but different drugs?

For me, these are preliminary experiments–giving myself real hands-on encounters with sobriety–in order to furnish myself with evidence of what a life without drugs is like. They’ve lead me to consider taking at least a year off all drugs and alcohol.

Yes, much better. I had a little over a year of experience working as a software contractor–ran my own business; my main client gave me an offer of employment which was reasonably competitive. They said I was the only one on the team who was preventing them from getting extra tax credits (apparently, if you have any full time contractors on the team, you’re not qualified for certain tax credits). Not wanting to be “that guy”, I took the offer (it does come with a lot of perks, including a very generous RRSP program). My business is now dormant. The way I figure it, I wouldn’t be doing anything differently anyhow–just working for my main client–and it gives me time to put together a solid business plan, maybe get a loan from a bank, and make it into a small business–but that’s at least a couple years down the road.

Cool. You seem to have handled two major upheavals pretty well? Most people would have gone off the rails big time. Congrats. It can’t have been easy. =D>

Well, it’s been an interesting 3 weeks so far, interesting enough to write a little something about it.

Right before I started this stint, I experienced a turn of events that flipped my perspective on my own life and self on its head. Only briefly, however, and now I feel I’m back to my ordinary self. It did paint some interesting pictures for me during the first and second week, and shed some light on this whole drug issue. I won’t say what the turn of events were, but I will say that it had a lot to do with girls and love. As some of you probably know, I’ve been separated from my wife for about 2 years now, and up until the end of May, I’ve been thanking my lucky stars I’m single. Then things turned completely around and I started longing for love. A few days later, I started the current stint. The first week of caffeine abstinence is always the worst. It is utter boredom and exhaustion. You’ve become tolerant and now you have to suffer through withdrawal. This added to my longing for love a sense of despair that this is what it was going to be like, once I quit all drugs and alcohol in the summer of 2018, for the rest of my life.

Of course, I knew I just had to give it time. By the second week my natural body energy levels would come back. Well, my energy levels did pick up in the second week, but not to my satisfaction. It still wasn’t “fun” like my weekly caffeine days are. Still looked like boredom and dullness for the rest of my life. I’m used to the idea that it usually takes a good two weeks for my natural energy levels to kick in during a caffeine break, but I don’t remember ever reaching a level at which I feel anything remotely equivalent to a caffeine “buzz”–typically, I just feel “normal”.

This, to me, counts as a complete reversal on my life outlook: rather than being thankful for the things I have, I started longing for the things I lack. I lack love in my life, a girl, but there are definitely perks to being single–you are the master of your own destiny, your life is entirely yours to determine–and I absolutely love that–but nothing compares to being in love. Just a taste of it leaves you wanting more. It is literally like a drug–and no, this is not one of those misuses of the term “literally”–that experience of romantic love between a man and a woman is literally the release of chemicals in the brain putting you into an ecstatic frenzy; and I remember earlier in this thread telling Moreno that falling in love is one of the things I’d give up the drugs for. So after going through an experience like that, and then watching the bubble burst, leaves me feeling not so happy being single. I looked ahead to the rest of my life and saw a hole, a cold emptiness, thinking I will never experience that feeling again for anyone. That coupled with my impatience vis-a-vis my natural energy levels left me focusing on the things I lack in my life: love and natural energy.

As for the latter, there was so much I was looking forward to after the summer of 2018. I don’t expect to be fully charged up like the energizer bunny on June 1 2018–I expected to go through the same withdrawal symptoms–fatigue, boredom, some depression, general malaise–and given my past experiments with these caffeine deprivation stints, I know my natural energy levels will never match those of the caffeine buzzes I love so much on my Fridays–but I still figured the summer of 2018 would be the beginning of a period of great self-improvement and that getting through the initial withdrawal would give way to so many benefits worth looking forward to. I was excited for it. I wanted it. But at the end of May, beginning of June, I started looking forward not to these benefits or any self-improvement, but to the complete absence of fun, of meaning, of excitement. Never again will I experience the buzz of a good cup of coffee, the fuzzy warm feelings of alcohol, or the spiritual heights that a good joint can raise you to. And that to me, at the time, looked like a complete void.

I started reconsidering my whole goal–whether it was a good idea after all to give up all drugs and alcohol for a good year (most likely a year and a half), and caffeine, alcohol, and cannabinoids in particular forever–whether I was just allowing myself to be caught up in my own self-induced drug-free frenzy–and that the only reason I felt good about it, looked forward to it, is because it fueled me with a sense of dignity just to be able to say I was going to do it–but when push comes to shove, would I regret it? Would I give up, saying to myself: I only wanted to say I was going to do it, not actually do it.

But thank God that’s over. I’m a little bit passed my third week, and I actually feel really good. Part of that, I’m sure, must be my body’s energy still working its way up to higher levels (although I don’t expect that to go on indefinitely–otherwise by the end of my previous caffeine stints, I would have been crazier than the mad hatter), but part of it is also (I think) self-confidence (more on this below). I gave myself a good figurative slap a few days ago (maybe it was a week ago) about even thinking of giving up my goal: so you’re just going to let a few withdrawal symptoms, plus the dull boredom and feelings of nothingness (which you’ve always known will come), convince you to give up the goal you’ve been building up for years, the goal that will secure for you immeasurable benefits and forms of self-improvement? What were you nuts?! So yeah, I’m back in the saddle now. Happy to be single and generally enjoying life (not that I don’t want to be in love, but at least its absence isn’t making me depressed).

The confidence thing: one lesson I’m learning during this stint is to watch for the distinction between feeling good and being good. I’ve learned that just because I don’t feel a “buzz” doesn’t mean I can’t be on fire. In the past week in particular, I’ve been far more extroverted at work, and a lot more playful with my kids, than I thought I could be sans caffeine. This is not something I observed during my past stints–not that it wasn’t there, but I never really posed the question to myself: can you still be on fire without feeling the caffeine buzz? And I find it comes out when it needs to, when my brain and body sense that now’s the time to start churning out idea, expressing thoughts in a professional and intelligent way, to show people what you’ve got–and it’s there, it comes out when the occasion calls for it. I don’t necessarily have to feel it subjective, on the inside, for it to be there in reality. Whereas outside these stints, I’d derive the satisfaction of feeling like I was so frickin’ awesome, that I could be on fire anytime I wanted, through the drugs, but most likely, in the eyes of others, I was annoying and irritating (I actually got this kind of feedback a few times while drunk and caffeinated at the bar–despite how I thought I was coming across), and the lesson here is that this is to be contrasted with not feeling so awesome and on fire subjectively but it nevertheless comes out that way anyway when performing in front of others. And I get to have my cake and eat it too: once I start noticing this about myself, I do feel good about myself–so it’s more of an “earned” good feeling–I get off the drugs, I perform significantly better, people see this, I feel more confident in myself, I earn the right to feel good about myself–as opposed to a “cheat” feel good where I bypass that whole process by injecting a drug into my brain directly to give myself the illusion of being awesome and on fire (and maybe I am–drugs can be a performance enhancer–but I’m definitely of no sound mind to judge my own performance objectively, so you can bet the distortions are there in my self-perception). ← Summer of 2018 would definitely be a good career move.

As for the cannabinoids, they’ve been doing some good for me. Without the caffeine and alcohol, I feel like I’m in a bit more control of my trips than otherwise. They’ve also been good for reminding me of how I should be looking at all this. It’s like once the cannabinoids enter my brain, they shift my head and force me to look in a different direction, as if saying: “no, no, no, you’re looking at this all wrong–you’re looking over there–where you should be looking is over here.” ← Sort of being a kind of symbiotic coach, adjusting my thoughts and ways of looking at things such as to remind me of the more positive visors through which to be looking. For example, I was reminded on a few stoned occasions what one of the original goals to these exercises was: that of “letting go,” of learning the skill of detachment. It’s inspired by Eastern/Buddhist ideas that say that the happiest life is that of utter detachment from the material things of this world, of cravings and desires. While I’m not going the route of the devout Buddhist monk, these exercises have always been about letting go of the attachments in my life which aren’t doing me any good, which are holding me back, and could one day lead to my own self-destruction. Ever since I got excited about the prospect of taking at least a year off (maybe one and a half) starting summer 2018, I’ve been planning all the things I want to do once that starts–like taking my little contracting business and turning it into a small business, taking a Dale Carnegie course, getting a tattoo, and so on. But it’s not easy making all these plans for my life without them turning into just more attachments. Albeit, I would consider them healthy attachments, which is what distinguishes this path from that of the Buddhist monk, but attachments can be very tricky nonetheless, and one must be careful. In all this, I had forgotten for a good while that the whole point of this exercise was to free myself of attachments, at least the unhealthy ones, and the drugs helped me to remember that. I’m not rethinking my goals for post-summer 2018, but I need to be ready to apply one of the most valuable lessons these past few years have taught me: how to detach (if necessary)–otherwise I’d have to put myself through another 5 year plan like this one.

And more to the point, it’s reminded me that a lack of excitement, of meaning, of deep significance to my life–those things the drugs helped me feel–can be as much a peaceful quiet as it can an agonizing deprivation. That thought brought me some solace. It brought me a perspective that worked (at least temporarily), a perspective according to which this emptiness I felt, this nothingness, wasn’t a negative, it wasn’t some trial of agony, but just nothingness–neither good nor bad–just an empty neutrality. There was nothing to cry woe over. It was a peaceful calm. I didn’t have to worry about whether I was going to amount to anything, whether I’d find love, whether my life would be nearly as exciting as it is while high on drugs–just things the way they are, even if that’s just blah, is nothing over which to worry. It’s a platform from which to begin your life. Things can only go up from there.

That perspective lasted until the next day when my brain returned to sober reality and my usual thought patterns took hold again (old habits die hard), but at least from that point on I tried to look at things from that perspective. And I think that’s probably when things started turning around for me. That was about a week ago. And with all the ego-boosting performances I’ve displayed to others (at work, with my kids, at the bar, drinking virgin caesars) in the last week, and with my body’s natural energy levels returning (even to the point where, in the last couple days, I’ve felt the butterflies-in-the-stomach typical of a caffeine overdose), this stint has turned around and I’m liking the results. I do want to feel this way all the time.

Now what about the alcohol? ← Not much to say there over and above any of my past stints. The usual still applies: save on money, no hangovers means more gets done, it helps keep the weight off during my dieting months, and with my natural body energy levels returning, making me a bit more extroverted, I don’t need booz as much to socialize and be talkative. But definitely, caffeine is the main culprit in my life, holding me back physically, psychologically, and spiritually. The alcohol, of course, ain’t good for me either, and it’s gotta go too, but there’s a reason I call myself a conditional alcoholic: my alcoholism depends on caffeine–I really only get the urge to drink when I’m jacked. So, with the caffeine will go the alcohol. The cannabinoids, on the other hand, are a different matter. I’m not entirely convinced they’re harming me. They are, nonetheless, one out of the three I plan on quitting for good come the summer of 2018, but during my first two weeks of the current stint, and their tendency to shift my head in a more positive direction (at least when not drunk or jacked up), had me thinking that at the end of the 1 year stint of no drugs or alcohol (most likely a year and a half), maybe I should take up the cannabinoids again. But I’ve since tossed that idea and returned to the original plan–part of the figurative slap I gave myself. Nevertheless, I don’t think that would be such a bad idea as I do believe the cannabinoids are the least of my problems out of the three drug categories.

So why am I making such a drama out of these last three weeks? It’s not just the short period of feeling the pain of deprivation, not just my feelings of self-doubt and questioning what I’ll amount to, but in a weird way I sort of believe in what Terrance McKenna called “resonance”–that is, the theory that patterns in time repeat on lower and higher scales, like patterns in a fractal–and that these two months, starting on June 1st, are representative of my full year (most likely a year and a half), also starting on June 1st. It’s raised the dreading question: is this what it’s going to feel like? I can only hope, if this is resonance, that the first two weeks remains the first two weeks–that is to say, the representation is not to scale. I’d hate to think that the first two weeks of depression and deprivation of this stint is going to translate into several months of depression and deprivation starting June 1 of 2018. It’s really made me think about what I’m getting myself into, whether I really want this or not. And I know that no matter what I happens, the total lack of fun times on drugs and the addictive buzz I get from them will be the first thing to sink in, and it will probably hit hard. But this third week has really paid off, and I’m glad I pushed through it. If this continues on the upward path, then I also hope, assuming the representation really is to scale, that so too will be the rewards.

It’s been a little over a month now, and I thought I’d jot down some more notes.

On June 24 when I last posted, I was feeling pretty good. In the last week that’s waned a little. Not much, just a little. It comes and goes. Nothing to get all worked up over. My energy levels (and thus my emotional state) still depend on a lot of things, three of which are: sleep, confidence levels, and life stuff. IIRC the night before the 24th, I was flirting with a cute bar tender at a local Moxie’s, and she was responding favorably, boosted my ego.

There’s also the drudgery of Mondays. I swear sleeping on weekends is what causes Mondays to be sluggish. It’s still way better than when I do caffeine though. Then I stayed up late on a Tuesday and a Wednesday, which made the days following a little sluggish, falling asleep at my desk more than once.

Not much to report in the way of life stuff–life carries on as usual–but you obvious get why this can be a factor.

I’ve definitely plateaued. Beyond three weeks, natural body levels of energy don’t seem to keeping going up–they simply begin to fluctuate around a higher mean–which overall is a good experience. But I can’t say the words “I wish I could feel like this everyday,” not like on the 24th ← Those moments remain rare. But this isn’t necessarily a bad thing–it just marks ground zero–the point at which I’d have to say I’m at my lowest. From there, it’s up to me to find ways to give myself little boosts–flirt with cute girls, get more sleep, whatever it takes–real life, not drugs, right?

Well, keep going. You’re bound to get somewhere with it. Stumbles happen.

Well, as long as I can make my life somewhat interesting. Anything’s better than dull repetitive drudgery. I don’t want my life story to consist only of: he got up, went to work, slaved away for the man, came home, ate supper, watched TV, went to sleep, then repeated again every day of his life. I think even if the experience of total sobriety is crushingly disappointing, at least its a more interesting story to tell than: he just did drugs all his life.

Well, you can expect them to say this at the least: ‘He tried to quit drugs, but his mother never told him not to be a quitter and so he tried and tried, but never quite made it. Just gave up and went back to drugs thinking he was a double loser instead of thinking of ways around the problem.’

Monday was my last day. Was too busy Tuesday to post anything. Had a coke in the morning, then half a coffee in the afternoon, and finally a couple glasses of wine in the evening. Only so much you can do on a Tuesday. This Saturday though, getting caffeinated, drunk, stoned, and listening to my latest music mix (it’s a tradition).

So since last time I posted, not too much has changed. July continued to fluctuate around a higher mean of energy, alertness, and mood. A pattern that I noticed is that Mondays are usually rough and gradually get better as Friday approach. As I said, the days when I really feel good enough to say: “I could live with this,” or “I wanna feel like this all the time,” are far and few between but the three (maybe four) times they occurred since the beginning of June were on Fridays. Then I allow myself to sleep in a bit on weekends, and I think that’s what does me in on Monday. So if I truly want high energy, good feelings, etc., I need to cut out sleeping in (or significantly reduce it). shudder

As usual, with fewer hangovers and less caffeine withdrawal, I get more work done, and even with the cannabinoids, I don’t lose much productivity (although the cannabinoids do cause me to lose sleep when I want to smoke up before I go to bed; stimulates the creative centers of my brain and makes me want to stay up). I need afternoon naps far less than I do when I’m on my usual routine (though fatigue does come over me once in a while). The only thing missing is the buzz. So I don’t feel good per se, just normal, but I have to remind myself that this is a real plus when compared to fatigue and drudgery I have to wade through on other occasions.

I found that I post way less idle chit-chat at ILP during these past couple months. This isn’t to say I’ve been avoiding ILP, just that when I come here, I don’t feel like chatting much, just working on my major projects (Rick and Morty and Gabriel’s Space Odyssey). Chit-chat at ILP is something I do for fun, and it’s only really fun if I’m jacked or drunk (stoned too by I’ve learned my lesson there). Working on my projects becomes more fun when I’m not.

This time around was different from all the other stints. For the first time, I was not looking forward to 2018. Why now? Maybe June 1 represents the 1 year mark? Maybe knowing that it’s less than a year away fills me with a sense of loss already? I mean, like I said, there was only the occasional Friday when I felt good enough to be satisfied with this as a way of life, so the prospect that the rest of the time was pretty representative of the way my life is going to be after the summer of 2018 starts to feel disappointing. I do have to remind myself, however, that many of the perks of a drug free life don’t come in the form of subjective good feelings–ex. more productivity, sharper mind, just a lack of fatigue and moodiness, benefits to my children, things I’m able to say about myself, etc. But still, for the first time, I feel myself having doubts.

I abhor the dullness of a drug free life, and I’ve been starting to think that this affects my self-image–if my life is dull, then I’m dull. Who would take an interest in me? Of course, I don’t think the alternative is that promising either. Who would take an interest in an alcoholic and druggy? But what comes to mind are the occasions in the past when I went out to the bar with a mix of caffeine and alcohol in my blood and was able to make an impression on people with my wit, my sense of humor, my creativity, and sharp thinking–and overall I get a kick out of these moments (mind you, I’m also aware that this is probably in part a self-imposed imagine of what I think is the impression I’m giving other people–like I said earlier, there was more than one occasion when the person I was talking to said I was more annoying than anything else). But this is why this whole path I’m on is going to require a lot of self-reminding. First and foremost, it will require reminding myself that the time in my life has begun for working at building excitement and meaning into my life–no more quick fixes, no more magic wand. The lowering of inhibition and heightening of sociability that I get with alcohol is a matter of self-confidence and learning to not hesitate. The quick and creative thinking that I get with caffeine is a matter of energy and sharp thinking. The energy will be challenging, might have to seek the advice of specialists. The sharp thinking will be even more of a challenge as that, if anything, is most likely to be genetically hardwired (I’m reminded of myelinated sheaths covering the axons of neurons, the function of which is to speed up the signal going down the axon). Quick thinking on my feet has never been a strong point for me–I’m more of a reflector, I need to digest what I read and what other people say before I can give a meaningful response–unlike how I am when I’m caffeinated. ← How can these things be exercised naturally? Well, I’m open minded to the possibility of change–the brain is very malleable, and I know my brain is capable of entering the states I want, just that so far it’s required drugs. So it’s not that my brain is incapable of achieving these states, just that I have to find another way.

Anyway, here’s the chart:

One more of these to go!

From Jan 1 to Feb 28 2018, I will be consuming no drugs or caffeine, only alcohol.

I expect this round to be a little awkward. Usually I’m not that much of an alcoholic without my caffeine (though I wouldn’t say I’m not an alcoholic without my caffeine), and I want to play this out naturally–that is, according to whim. Which means not drinking as much as a I usually do. But this throws off the experiment. I want to see what life is like with only alcohol in the picture, and to the same degree, not a lesser degree. So I might try to stick to my usual routine, at least on Fridays/Saturdays. ← But that seems a little odd… to force myself to drink when I don’t really feel like it, or at least as much? As I said, a bit awkward, but I’ll figure it out.

Anyway, this will be the last stint before July 1 2018 when I quit all drugs and alcohol for at least a year, probably more like 2 years. It’s fast approaching.

Hello ILP club, did you miss me? Well, I didn’t miss you.

I have a lot to report, but not today. Got no time, and don’t have the energy. But today is March 1 and just wanted to say I did it (again). Will have more to say on Saturday.

Peace motherfuckers.

Look forward to it; )

I can always count on you, MagsJ.

Hello ILP scum bags, what’s up?

I suppose you wanna hear about the results of my two month stint of only alcohol. No? Too bad! Here it is!

As usual, the lack of caffeine forced my body to pick up the slack a bit in terms of energy and alertness and I was able to get more work done without needing a nap. However, I still needed naps. The body will NEVER reach the equivalent of three cups of coffee in terms of energy and alertness all on its own. So though the improvement in energy and alertness was noticeable (as usual) it by no means got rid of my need for at least an hour nap in the middle of the afternoons.

I suppose part of the need for sleep might have to do with the booze–they do after all make you sleepy–but I’m not talking about days when I had been heavily drinking the night before. Then again, I’ve developed a bad habit of going out a couple nights a week to the local Moxie’s or Milestones across the street and having a couple glasses of wine and a shot of tequila. By no means did I get drunk or wake up with a hangover the next morning, but this means I can’t totally rule out the influence of alcohol on my energy and alertness levels. I do know that there were days when I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the night before, and I’d had a good night sleep, yet I was still tired.

Then there’s the usual Fridays… Moxie’s downtown before I go home. I used to do this only every second Friday, but that was back when I had a full work day on Fridays. Full work days when it’s my weekend with the kids means no drinks after work on those Fridays. But since the beginning on 2016, I’ve been working at a place at which we get Friday afternoons off. So end of work Fridays means drinks at Moxie’s downtown at noon, then go home and be ready for the kids after they get out of school. At first, I kept the schedule of Friday drinks only on every second Friday (my weekends without the kids), but now it’s every Friday… not good for my wallet.

Then there’s the usual getting drunk on Fridays (weekend without my kids) or Saturdays (weekend with my kids) which continued even without the caffeine (I’d make Saturdays my caffeine days on weekends with the kids since it’s fun having the energy to engage with my kids… which of course, being the conditional alcoholic that I am, conditional on caffeine, would make Saturdays on weekends with the kids my getting drunk days… after the kids went to bed of course).

It didn’t used to be the case that I’d go out twice a week. It used to be that I’d go out only once a week, if that. Again, not good for my wallet. In fact, during the first few weeks of January, I really didn’t have the urge to drink at all. Moreover, I can honestly say that in the past couple months, I haven’t had the urge to buy booze at the liquor store. I mean, I’d be lying if I said it never happened, but it’s certainly became way less (like maybe twice in the past two months). So while Moxie’s/Milestones (and sometimes Jameson’s or Joey’s) has gone up, liquor stores have gone down (unfortunately it’s the more expensive venue that’s gone up).

Alcoholism seems to be a funny thing… it always seems to be conditional (at least in my case). I know caffeine fuels my alcoholism but I’m also finding that my desire to go out to Moxie’s/Milestones more often is fueled more by the good looking girls who work there. I love to flirt with them. I just don’t get that from a mickey of Jack Daniels. So my alcoholism seems to bootstrap itself onto my longing for love. I wish I could say that I’m completely not an alcoholic without the caffeine or the pretty girls at the local pubs but I’ve learned through these two month stints that if you allow yourself to partake of the booze even without these catalysts, your alcoholism (if you have it) can become unconditional.

All in all, though, I’m not worried. I know that by July 1 this year, I won’t have to worry about any of that. It will force me to become more responsible financially and also health-wise.

On a lighter note, there have been some positives. On a few occasions, drunk at the bar, I’ve found that I can be just as social without the caffeine as I can with. Caffeine makes me talkative, makes me extroverted, makes my brain more responsive in real time. But on a few occasions, I’ve found that all it takes is a bit of lowering of inhibitions (thanks to the booze) for me to get into that state and have intense stimulating discussions with the local drunkards. However, I think there’s still a difference. Someone once told me that caffeine is like a block you put behind the break peddle of your car… no matter how much you need to stop, you just can’t. I found that without the caffeine (and with the booze) I can step on the gas no problem, but I can also run out of steam real quickly. So whereas I can strike up a conversation and have witty things to say to people, I also slow down sometimes and have trouble thinking of appropriate responses or keeping on top of the conversation. IOW, the ability is there, I just can’t sustain it for as long. But knowing that the only thing holding me back is inhibitions is a comforting thought; it means it’s within my control and can be remedied by a bit of conditioning.

(This makes sense based on what they say of introverts… socializing drains us a lot more quickly than it does extroverts; but caffeine makes me extroverted; I also wonder for some extroverts… does socializing sometimes fuel their energy, exciting them as it were such as to feel like socializing even more?)

And the cannabinoids? Not much to report there. I guess there’s this: I feel spiritually dead inside without the psychedelics… like there’s a big fat nothing inside, and what’s left of me is an automaton, a mindless drone carrying on with his daily obligations, getting done what needs to be done, working through the daily grind… but no real life inside, no spark. In fact, it’s set in a bit of depression. I think this is hugely fueled by July 1 fast approaching. I’m asking myself: is this what it’s going to be like? A desert–just the dull grind of tired life, the banalities of the meaningless ordinary? The alcohol and the flirting alleviates this painless pain on the occasions when I go out, but even that I’m going to have to give up come July 1.

I have a bit of a delusion. I sometimes believe in a demon who accompanies me. During the past two months, that delusion just didn’t arise. When I do the psychedelics, that delusions comes alive. But more on this below.

Let’s see the chart so far:

This month was a big neutral… not really feeling any better than I usually do but not worse either. The only change was, predictably, life was more steady (and monotonous) than the ups and downs of my usual life of drugs and caffeine. The idea, therefore, is supposed to be that this is what life is like with only alcohol. You might compare this with the last stint I did in the summer of 2017 when I did only the cannabinoids. Those two months features at least a few days when I felt above average (in terms of energy and good feeling). You might draw the conclusion, therefore, that an alcohol only drug diet cause neutrality, dullness, whereas a cannabinoid only drug diet allows for the occasional above-average day. But common sense tells me there is no real link between the variables. If I could have said, after the two month stint in 2017, that I felt good and full of energy 90% of the time, that would be something else. It would be more reasonable to infer a correlation… but only three days out of the whole two months? Nothing can be gleaned from that.

(I also have to say that I was trying out the Atkins diet during the past 2 months, and that could be a confounding variable, but I doubt it… and yes, I understand the irony of consuming alcohol at my usual rate while on a diet that prohibits fast burning energy, but that’s a complicated (and irrelevant) matter.)

So anyway, we’re now in a position not only to draw some conclusions about what life is like on an alcohol only diet but on what I should do with my life now that all the results are in. And I don’t think there’s any question about it. I’ve already made my decision. I’m going to take at least a year off all drugs and alcohol, maybe two, and then make a final decision on what to do with the rest of my life. These past 5 years have worked out perfectly. It started out as an experiment; I wanted to determine for myself, with hands on experience, whether life is really better without the drugs than with. The irony is that, if you look back at the results, life is only slightly better. Not overwhelming. Yet slightly better is still better, so logically I should take it. Yet psychologically, I’m disappointed in the results. Slightly better sounds pitiful to me. And strictly speaking, I should really only be looking at the results of the first two stints since those were the only ones that did away with all drugs and alcohol. All the others were the results of specific combinations and I should be interpreting them as what life is like on those particular drugs only. Yet having gone through these experiences, I really feel that life is far too complicated, far too rife with confounding variables, to draw any kind of connection. The results of the spring of 2014, for example, were the most positive, but do I have a right to say that if I cut alcohol out of my life but stuck with the caffeine and cannabinoids, my life would be great? Probably not. Probably, these results are the consequence of unenumerable variables (and most likely a hell of a lot of bias and subjective interpretation). So what was the point? The point was to arrive at something like the decision I’m making now, and that happened.

This needs elaboration. There’s a psychological game that one can play on one’s self; I call it the migration of value. It’s based on the natural psychological phenomenon whereby one’s values “migrate” from one thing to another. One has attachments. One values those attachments. But sometimes attachments get compromised. One values one’s car, for example. One is therefore attached to it. But if that car breaks down and becomes unusable, then one’s attachment to it is compromised. One feels the pain of the loss. But then one can compensate for that by buying a new car. The new car is bought and one no longer feels the pain (except perhaps in one’s wallet). Once again, one feels secure knowing that one has a reliable mode of transportation, of getting from point A to point B, of being able to get things done and make ends meet, etc. In other words, one restores the security of one’s values by “migrating” those values from one attachment to another, from a compromised car to a new car.

We see the migration of value with abstract attachment as well. One values winning the argument. But if one finds that he or she cannot match the arguments of one’s contender, then one’s attachment to winning the argument is compromised. But what does one usually say? Maybe something like “Ok, you win, but you didn’t have to be so rude,” or perhaps “fair enough, but I still think I’m right on point A, B, and C.” In other words, one’s values migrate from winning the argument to getting an apology from one’s contender for being so rude, or to a concession on points A, B, and C.

Attachments to drugs and alcohol are no exception, except that since they are always readily available and easy to consume, they don’t typically get compromised. Instead, they are unhealthy attachments that one may admit to without being forced to find alternatives for. For this reason, one must not wait for something to occur which forces one to migrate his or her values (for example, what if alcohol suddenly became illegal), one must proactively invoke the migration of value upon one’s self. (This is typical of coming to an understanding of a phenomenon; when we understand a natural phenomenon, like electricity, we tend to proactively make it into technology, like electronics; understanding the natural phenomenon of the migration of value means that one can proactively use it on one’s self to effect change, to effect, that is to say, the migration away from unhealthy attachment to more healthy ones).

Here’s the formula for migrating away from unhealthy attachments to more healthy ones: for any undesired value attachment A, and any desired value attachment C, find a value attachment B that is compatible with both. Migrate as much value as you can away from A and to B. Once all or most of your attachment has been migrated, repeat the migration away from B and to C. This may be done for any number of migrations–for example, from A to B to C to D to E, etc. The principle upon which this works is that migrations from one value to another are much easier when those values are compatible, or when you value both, than when they are not.

Let’s take attitudes as an example. Supposed you had a bad habit of nursing a negative attitude towards everything, but you also knew that this was unhealthy and you should really practice being more positive. You know this from seeing the effects in others who are more positive, how they are happier, how they seem to lead healthier lives, how people just like being around them more, but you just feel stupid being positive yourself, you feel like a dork, like you’re just lying to yourself. So you’re blocked; you want to go from here to there but the two seem utterly incompatible. You can’t just make a switch over night. What does the formula for the migration of value prescribe? It prescribes that you find a middle attitude, one that is compatible with both your negative attitude and the positive one you hope to acquire. How 'bout realism? It seems to be a general trend among pessimists and others with negative attitudes that they prefer to be called “realists” rather than pessimists. So be it. You’re a realist. But that means you value realism. That means that realism, for you, is compatible with pessimism. It also so happens to be compatible with optimism. And why not? To be realistic is to be okay with admitting that sometimes positive outcomes happen, that the world isn’t always bad. Or at least that if a positive outcome occurs, admitting that it’s positive is still to be realistic. What you do then is put some mental effort into focusing on realism rather than pessimism. The principle here is that since you already value realism, this should be far easier and smoother a transition than that from pessimism to optimism. So you make the migration. With practice and commitment, thinking with a realist attitude eventually becomes second nature, conditioned as it were, and then you are ready to make the move from realism to optimism. You repeat the process: you put mental effort into focusing on optimism rather than realism. Your prior pessimism no longer gets in the way because you’ve already migrated away from it and essentially detached yourself from it, drained it of any power to keep you in its grips. That’s how it’s done.

In my case, drugs are the unhealthy attachment, sobriety is the healthy one, and these 2 month stints over the past 5 years are the middle one that’s compatible with both. In the beginning, I was a proponent of drugs. I believed in one’s right to explore alternate states of consciousness. It was a form of spirituality for me, and still is. For me, doing drugs to explore foreign experiences was like a scientist conducting experiments or like a Christian going to church. It is their right according to their beliefs. And I still believe this (that’s the beauty of the migration of values; values don’t always have to be compromised). It was therefore difficult for me to come to grips with the adverse effects of drugs, the possibility that they were doing more harm to me than good. It was the fact that I had to admit to myself that, at some point along the way, I wasn’t really doing them to explore alternate states of consciousness anymore, but just for a buzz on a boring Friday night. This, now that I think about it, was the first step in migrating away from the drugs. That I was hooked to the buzz didn’t have to count as a compromise of my values. It was compatible. Yet, it wasn’t enough to decide right then and there to quit. For that, I needed real hands on experiences with sobriety. I value real experiences. I thought, therefore, that if I can prove to myself that life is indeed better without the drugs than with, I would be OK with giving them up. That’s when the next step in the migration stood before me. But what this means is that neither these experiments nor the results were ever the ultimate goal; they were only a means to a goal: valuing sobriety. This is why it doesn’t matter how disappointed I am in the results–I now want sobriety–I want it regardless of the results. It took five long years to get here, five long years to convince myself to be OK with giving up the drugs, convincing myself through a psychological trick, but it worked. Not: it’s going to work, it did work. I am now looking forward to July 1 2018, proud to say I’m going to be drug free.

Yet I’m depressed, right? I did say above, didn’t I, that I look forward to it with a heavy heart? That the prospect of walking through a desert of spiritual death is something I dread? Yes I did say this, but this is not because my values are compromised. It’s just the hard work that I know is in store for me. The problem with addiction is that we are animals. Animals seek immediate gratification–hedonism–and act in accordance with their impulses and their environmental conditioning. So even while I value sobriety, I know I will miss the rush and the euphoria of the drugs, and I know I will have to endure deprivation and depression. I need this momentum, this conviction to my new values, in order to make it through. I am human; I am an animal but I am human. I have an animal self but also a higher self unique to my humanity. The higher self of human beings is the part of us which strives for higher things, which reaches beyond immediate gratification, which can effect its will against impulse and environmental conditioning. My higher self has placed his values at odds with his visceral desires and cravings so as to overcome them. It shouldn’t be a surprise that this will hurt, that even now I am depressed. That’s what it takes, after all. The point is this: five years ago, if I had looked across this desert, straight to the horizon, I would have said: no way, man. Now I am not saying this.

Yet it’s not quite the same as a commitment to give up drugs and alcohol all together, is it? I’ve been saying, “at least a year, probably two.” ← Is that a commitment to quit drugs and alcohol? Or just an extended 2 month stint? What I’ve done here is give myself one more intermediate step in the migration of my values. The results of these 2 month stints have not only been disappointing, but they have been based on things I don’t even feel (hedonistically, at least). For example, much of what goes into saying that the results of this or that stint are positive are things like: I save money (alcohol is hella expensive), I will be a better roll model for my children, I will get more work done, be more focused on my career. These aren’t “feel good” benefits. They’re more like “be good” benefits… things I have to remind myself of because I don’t just feel it like a immediate buzz. What this means is that the animal side of myself, which only knows immediate gratification, that is feeling good, dreads the prospect of walking through the desert of self-deprivation and spiritual meaningless even though I know it will make me a better person. Because of this, I, at a certain point in my journey, had to decide on a compromise: rather than making that fatal decision to give up all drugs and alcohol, do one more extremely long stint. Yet his is more than just another stint in my mind; it is an opportunity to find real substitutes for the drugs. I don’t think one can find substitutes for drugs in only two months. One needs at least a year. My hope is that through all the things I intend to try, something will give me that hands on experience that I desperately want, the hands on experience which is more than “slightly positive”, which is a real contender to the euphoria of the drugs.

What are the things I intend to do with my year, probably two, away from drugs and alcohol? How do I intend to replace them?

1. Therapy

2. Take a Dale Carnegie course

3. Get a tattoo

4. Take acting classes

5. Talk to WendyDarling about astral projections

6. Talk to my good friend Rita about other forms of spirituality

7. Get exorcised

Let’s go through these one by one, shall we?

1. Therapy: I’m going to walk into the doctor’s office and say: help me be awesome. There are other ways of saying this:

   • Help me become extroverted, not introverted.
   • Help me become fit to run a business.
   • Help me to influence people rather than be influenced.
   • Help me to become more energetic.
     All things which the drugs helped me do–at least the caffeine and alcohol–but I want to learn how to do this without a crutch. I’m hoping a therapist can help. I intend to take the attitude that there’s nothing wrong with me–and indeed I think I will be able to say that with full confidence and conviction on July 1–but that I want to become better anyway (to be fucking awesome!). I want to be better than OK. The drugs made me feel like a super star, like a god. I want to be able to churn that out with the power of my own mind.

2. Take a Dale Carnegie course: I took the Dale Carnegie course when I was 14 (my dad thought it would help given the problems I was having at school). I was too young at the time to realize how I was supposed to apply the lessons they taught me, but I’m 41 now and very capable of applying these principles. Back then, I sort of expected things to happen automatically, as though the Dale Carnegie coaches were gonna make me more sociable, that I just had to let them do the work. Now I see it like a tool. Like therapy, I mean to use it with intent–that is, like a tool which does nothing by itself, I intend to use it proactively, to purposefully apply the lessons they teach to actual life.

3. Get a tattoo: This one here:

This is a drawing a made a while back. I call it “Transition”–perfect for what I’m going through. I intend to get this branded on my upper back as a symbol of my salvation, of being set free from my demon. ← That’s a whole other story which I won’t get into, but suffice it to say, the drugs definitely keep my demon alive, like feeding a leach with what you consume for yourself. Starve yourself and you starve the leach. Yet my hope is that Gaseous (that’s his name) is also set free by this act. I will consider the act of tattooing myself a kind of self-induced exorcism. My hope is that he will stand trial before God and he will be judged on the good acts he has performed in teaching me his wisdom the last 20 years, that his parole will have proven worthwhile, and that he will be forgiven–an exorcism for us both, so to speak–and that, now with freedom, he will chose to revisit me, and maybe because of that, continue to fuel me with the magic he has so far imparted to me. ← That would be another way to replace the drugs.

On a more practical note (to come back down to Earth ), the tattoo will symbolize my commitment to abstain from drugs and alcohol, not only out of a desire to express myself with body art, but as another psychological trick. I mean, if you really want to stick to a commitment, what better way than to permanently brand yourself? It’s the equivalent of tattooing onto your forehead: “I promise never to do drugs again.” ← You can’t just go back on that.

(As an aside, I also think I deserve it. I’ve always been reluctant to the idea of getting a tattoo because, well, that’s for tough guys, or maybe cool guys who ride motorbikes; but I had an epiphany: why do you care if you’re a touch guy or not? Why not get a tattoo because you earned it? Why not because you did something that is worth a tattoo, something like giving up drugs and alcohol?)

4. Take acting classes: Now this one’s a rather new ambition. I thought to myself one day: how are you going to be confident enough to socialize with people and to flirt with girls without your liquid courage? Well, why not just pretend to be a guy who’s confident enough to socialize and flirt with girls? Play a roll, act a part. If you feel like it’s lying, then be okay with lying. I even thought this: if you want a substitute for drugs, see how far you can get with acting like you’re on drugs. I could go to the bar stone cold sober and just walk around talking to people like a stumbling drunk. If you had the acting skills, you could probably pull this off. Then you could socialize and talk to girls just like you did in the good old days… huh? Am I right? Huh?

And with any luck, the placebo effect might come into play… actually making you feel drunk (or high, or stoned, or whatever).

And this could be used in all sort of life’s facets… being a good salesman for example. If you don’t think you’re smooth enough, or influential enough, or persuasive enough… try acting like someone who is… see how far you get.

5. Talk to WendyDarling about astral projections: this speaks for itself I think. Astral projections would be the perfect substitute for drugs, and WendyDarling can attest to their reality. She’s had them before and might be able to instruct me on how to induce one for myself. No pressure Wendy, but I’m coming for you after July 1 . We’ve talked about this before and she knows I’m eager to learn from her once I get off the drugs. And spiritual experiences in general would be an incredibly fitting substitute for the drugs–doesn’t have to be astral projections–I mean, if you had the ability to astral project, or talk to spirits, or gain a psychic ability, or to perform magic… wouldn’t you give up an addiction to have it?

And what if this is just a bunch of nonsense, mumbo-jumbo, new aged bull shit? What if it is? I’d still be willing to settle just for the experience thereof. I mean, suppose that the experience of astral projection wasn’t really your soul leaving your body and blasting through the cosmos FTL, what if it was just a psychedelic experience, a hallucination, an alternate state of consciousness that was happening only in my brain?.. well gee, how could that possibly count as a substitute for drugs? And what if there is no such experience? What if, after a year or more of trying, I can’t astral project any more than I can now? Well, hopefully, given that year or more, I will have bought enough time to experience the benefits of sobriety, enough so that I will still be able to say it’s worth staying sober. IOW, maybe the migration of value can still happen–migrating away from a compromised value (astral projection) and towards an uncompromised value (the benefits of being sober for a year or more).

6. Talk to my good friend Rita about other forms of spirituality: Now Rita isn’t her real name; to protect her identity, I will not reveal her real name. But she knows a lot about spirituality; she’s much like Wendy in my eyes. So essentially, she might be able to serve the same purpose that Wendy might. The power of two spiritualist is better than one. And I can actually meet up with Rita whereas my contact with Wendy is limited to PMs.

7. Get exorcised: speaks for itself… I think I need an exorcism. Hoping Wendy can help, maybe Rita too. If not, maybe they can recommend someone. If not, hoping the tattoo will do the trick. If not, oh well, it’s a delusion anyway.

These are the things I hope to accomplish on my year, probably more, off the drugs and the alcohol. These are the things which I hope will help me find a substitute for the drugs and therefore help me fully accept a completely sober life. Now why do I always say: a year, maybe more? Well, the formal decision to migrate from the compromised 2 month stints to the full year was one according to which I thought 1 full year was a good round figure, a reasonable amount of time to accomplish the things set out above. However, for me this is about more than quitting the drugs; it’s about detachment from unhealthy values. What this means is that there’s more than just the drugs I wish to detach myself from. Actually, there’s one other thing: my book. If you click on the link “My Thoughts” in my sig, you will be taken to my website where I am trying (without much success) to sell my book The Nuts and Bolts of Consciousness. ← This is an unhealthy attachment. Why? You might ask. How can writing a book, or selling one, be an unhealthy attachment? Well, I don’t think it’s unhealthy in general, but this one in particular is for me. I’ve been obsessed with my theory of consciousness since, oh, shortly after I got hooked on drugs. The unhealthy aspect of it is that it distracts me from the more important things in my life–my career, my children, girls–it eats up my time with little return. I’m way better off spending my creative energies elsewhere. Yet, like the drugs, I can’t just “give it up”–not over night–but what I can do is finish it–volumes II and III that is–upload them to my site, maybe make some kendle copies, and then let it go. But there’s no way this will ever be done before July 1. I’m thinking I need at least a year after July 1 2018 to get all that done. What this means is that the real period of detachment from unhealthy values will begin only after I am done with my books, and it is then when I plan to spend a full year being free from unhealthy attachments. So it’s definitely going to be at least a year of complete sobriety, but most likely more.

It’s weird though… though I intend to spend at least a year free from unhealthy attachments, this most likely will not be like the Buddhist monk who frees himself from worldly attachments, he who spends his time in quiet solitude, cultivating a tranquil mind and a stress-free life. No, no, no, quite the opposite for me. I intend to spend my time away from drugs and alcohol, away from obsessing over my book, building up my business. I have a software business that dormant at the moment and I intend to pick it up again sometime in 2018, and hopefully over the course of the next 2 years or so, make it into a small business. Retreating to a Buddhist monistary, or spending your days meditating in silence for hours, is not how that’s done. I plan to be busy, busy, busy–probably quite stress out–and I can’t afford to let drugs and alcohol, or attachments to deadly money pits, hold me back. Detaching myself from these unhealthy attachments will put me in the best position possible to accomplish my career goals. And yet, the Buddhist aspiration of attaining inner peace through lack of attachments is still one of my fundamental goals. How can this be so? Wouldn’t the stress of being bogged down with overwhelming work and the stress of keeping a fledgeling business afloat do precisely the opposite for me? Maybe to the animal self within me, but not the higher self. Stress is certainly something an animal can feel, but it’s the art of managing one’s attachment which is key. ← That’s something only the higher self can weild. It’s like this: attachments are not just addictions forged by hedonistic forces, they are commitments–or rather, excuses–they are the self refusing to give them up. The key is to not commit. I will persue my ambitions to start a small business, but I promise myself never to say: I can’t give this up. I will always allow myself the option of migrating my values to something which, if deemed more healthy or a better, more reasonable option, keeps me getting stuck to that which is not good for me. In other words, it’s really a very simple trick: just don’t ever commit. I can persue a career as the owner of a small software company, working the long hours, working through the stress, but as long as I don’t lock myself in psychologically, I think I can preserve that freedom of mind which is the staple of the Buddhist way of life. The key is this: always, always, always allow yourself an out. ← Preserve that as one of your highest values.

That being said, however, I’m ultimately driven by something I absolutely will not detach myself from: my daughter. The whole reason I want to start a small business is so that I can make the kind of income required to support my daughter. My goal is to gain custody of her, at least shared custody with my X, but that requires money. And when it comes down to it, I’d prefer to have custody of both my children–my daughter and her younger brother–but I know my son is better off with his mother (he’s a mama’s boy ). My daughter, every time I ask her, says she’d prefer to live with me. And so I’m determined to make that happen, but I need the money. There are healthy attachments, and there are unhealthy attachments, and then there are attachments which I simply will not let go of. The Buddhist monk who retreats to a monistary in order to detach himself of the fleshly desires of the material world isn’t morally obligated to do so. Buddhism isn’t a moral religion. It promises a path towards peace and ultimately enlightment. But it does not say: though shalt. It says only: it’s there if you want it, and this is the way. What this means, however, is that a descrepancy can be drawn between what one can do to achieve the ultimate Buddhist goal and what one ought to do. The choices that the Buddhist monk makes are not always moral. To truly detach himself from all worldy pleasures and attachments, to seclude himself from the world, he must give up his attachment to his family and loved ones. If he has a family–a wife, a child–he must abandon them. And I ask myself: is that right? I mean, sure, if he detaches himself from the bonds of family, he may be free of any hardship or worry that such attachments sometimes cause, but has he done his family right? Has he done what’s moral? I don’t think so. This is why, out of all the attachments which are holding me back from being truly free, I will not give up my attachment to my daughter. It just wouldn’t be right. And this, in turn, drives me on to achieve building a small business and financial enhancement. But I still believe in allowing myself to detach myself from that goal, that value, if one day it seems practically sound to do so–it’s just that it cannot compromise my attachment to my daughter. If, for example, rather than achieve success as the owner of a small business, I won the lottery… well that would certain suffice to support gaining custody of my daughter, and so long as I haven’t formed an attachment to my business for it’s own sake (committing to it for its own inherent value, in other words, which is what addictions or based on), then I should be able to let it go for the sake of a higher goal, that being gaining custody of my daughter.

But in any case, building a small business would certainly count as yet another reason to stay off the drugs and alcohol. I think if I achieve that, not only will it mean I absolutely cannot return to being a druggie (I think that would spell absolute disaster for the owner of a business), but it might even fulfill me in just the right way that drugs did.

I’m not there yet, however, and all this is highly uncertain. I don’t have a crystal ball. I have no idea what the future holds for me. This is why I’m still treating this like an experiment. As a formality, I am telling myself: at least a year, probably two, and I reserve the right, after that time, to choose to go back into the drugs. If the results of this experiment prove that life just isn’t the same without the drugs and alcohol–one or probably two years worth of sobriety, which is more than ample–then I’d be an idiot to have locked myself into a commitment of this sort, a commitment to stewing in misery. I have yet to really acquire the experience of being happy, of being fulfilled, without the crutchs of drugs and alcohol, and at this point, it remains uncertain whether any of the forgoing is possible, let alone affective. Therefore, I’m thinking of this year, probably two, as much like the American Constitution–to be respected as a set of laws that government and citizens alike are obliged to observe, but also open ended and subject to amendment–life is too precarious and uncertain to lock something like this down permanently; it must be allowed to change if necessary. I think it will be enough, however, to achieve the main goal. That being said, I’m pretty sure that come July 1, I’ll be done with alcohol and caffeine forever. I’ve come to grips with the fact that these are no good for me. The cannabinoids and other drugs, however, I might consider going back on them after the fully year, probably more, is up. I know the trick to avoiding addictions now, so I’m not worried that I will fall back into addiction. And quite frankly, I still believe in one’s right to explore alternate states of consciousness–it’s just that this time around, I will have to explore new drugs that are, well, new. If the drug is tried again, and again, and again… well, chances are I’ve grown to enjoy the buzz rather than exploring the novelty of an altered state of consciousness. I’ll have to figure out a way to deal with the tattoo and what it represents, but I already know the answer to that: it represents my self-induced exorcism, and unless I fall back into addiction, I think the spirit of it will remain true. ← But therein lies the dangers of self-deception… this is why I really have to see what can be made of life without the drugs and alcohol, and prove to myself that after a year, probably more, of feeling truly happy and fulfilled, of feeling that this is better than anything I could have imagined, I’d have to be utterly stupid to risk losing it all by returning to the drugs, my right to explore or otherwise be damned.

To wrap this up, then, I would like to say this: one thing I’ve noticed is that whenever these two month stints involve abstaining from caffeine, I have absolutely no desire to come here to ILP. Caffeine makes me chatty, it makes me want to talk, to write, to socialize. Coming to ILP is what I like to do when I’m caffeinated. Actually, that’s not quite true. I also come here at least once a day to either: 1) check if there are any responses to the things I wrote, or 2) working no my projects (Which at the moment only consist of my Rick and Morty thread). But chances are, after July 1, you won’t be seeing much more of me. I’ll still be here, hanging around, but it will probably be rare that I ever participate in discussions. I’ll be more like ghost. It will be as if I wasn’t even here. For this reason, I feel like being an ass. I think I’ll spend the next 4 months being an asshole to each and every one of you here at ILP. I don’t much like you guys anyway. There’s only a small smattering of people who I like here (I’ll PM you guys after July 1 to let you know). But for the rest of y’all, you guys are scum bags… the scum of ILP. You guys are frickin’… well… I won’t get into that.