Like a Russian doll

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This new normal is turning out to be a real lousy new normal within another new normal which is nothing like any normal I’ve ever experienced. Maybe it’s bad for you as well? Be sure, I pray not.

In March, dry Scott met COVID-19 lockdown Scott. By all accounts this new world order that should have been a custom fit. A real time of great renewal. Time for me to overcome my demons, and get my life organized.  But today as I slowly organized my garage I was thinking to myself how great it would be to have a hangover. And, how joyful it would be to suffer the penalty for kicking some poor souls teeth in. For sure! I’ve been feeling grouchy and I know it is likely due to the stress of the new normal (COVID) as well as the other new normal (dry months more) and additionally the remaining old normal of my love strained marriage. 

These problems are first world problems for sure. But I just can’t seem to find the happy. I’m grouchy, I’m tired, and I am extra obstinate. Ten days ago I took a one night break from my alcohol vacation. It was great. It reminded me of the days ago when I was working to quit smoking. Those days when I would break and pick up a cigarette only to regret it the next day. Such was the case this last 10 days ago. Wouldn’t you know it I was delighted that these similarities it gave me fresh resolve and something to focus on something to compare and contrast to. 

However today I’m not thinking of the cycle of falling off the horse and getting back upon it. No, today I am thinking how much I would love a shitty night sleep, and a hangover in the morning. Because the new normal in the new normal and remaining old normal is not so happy. I am not happy on the ground or the horse. I can’t seem to will my new productivity into happiness. Obviously I’m struggling to escape feeling my dull, drab, and grouchy. Most upsetting, I know my mood is hurtful to my family and my friends. I am at a total loss. What on earth should I do to overcome it. 

Gone is the happy drunk Scott. I pray this is not abuse on my sympathetic understanding of your soul. I am trying hard to draw on the lesson tomorrows message is intended to bring. Bless the Maker, his message is the last string my intellect holds for hope.


Photo credit: Scott Cain

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