I’m partially grateful that I already have a pseudonym to hide behind thanks to my 16 year old self for creating Hurlwinds on Twitter, but I am partially aggravated because I don’t know why I can’t seem to tell the truth under my own name.
An introduction seems necessary I suppose? Although I’m sure all 0 of you readers don’t give 1 shit. Which is okay. I don’t either.
- I’m a druggie. Alcoholic too, although I don’t really like drinking. I’d refer to myself as a “recovering addict” but that would be bullshit. I’m not recovering, I just happen to be a little sober. I’m not really taking steps towards staying that way, I’m just, like, standing in the driveway of the dope house and taking steps backwards towards the street, if that makes any sort of sense.
- I love writing, but I am the world’s shittiest communicator. I refuse to talk about “what’s wrong,” mainly because I don’t like bitching and also because I think I can solve my issues myself and talking about them won’t fix them. However, solving them myself never works out. I get to the street, something goes slightly wrong, and my hand is back on the doorknob of the dope house’s front door. It’s a lot easier to ask for drugs than it is to ask for help, but I’m sure we all knew that.
- I like art too. Specifically painting. I’m putting myself in school once again this semester (I haven’t been since Spring of 2016 and I’ll explain that another time. In short, though: it was a shit show. I think if I ever had a reality show it would just be called The Shit Show) as a General Studies major because a) academic probation and b) I’m not sure whether I’d like to pursue art or writing anyways, so it gives me time to choose between which mistake to make. “There’s just no shelf life.”
- Academic probation isn’t the only probation I’m on. I got myself into legal trouble last Spring. I guess that kinda gives off a sense of what occurred the last time I was in college. 🙂
- I’m here, doing this shit, because I was told to. Sort of. I mean, I wasn’t told to do anything. It was suggested to me by my mother, counselor (whom I will be meeting with Wednesday for the second time. I haven’t decided whether or not I like her just yet), probation officer (she’s nice, I’ll see her Wednesday as well), and substance abuse counselor (we’ll talk about her later) that I start writing again. Hell, my substance abuse counselor had me write my own obituary, in which I died of an overdose. I wonder if I OD’d intentionally or not. I doubt it. I talk a big game, ya know, always tweeting shit like “I wanna die lol” but I don’t have the balls.
- I got off topic. The point is, I suck at talking, but I am an ok writer. And I hate complaining and venting to people as myself, but as Hurlwinds, I’ll bitch about what I want to however frequently I want to because I bought this domain and I didn’t spend good Taco Bell money, or drug money, or art supplies money on restricting myself from fully opening up because I’m afraid for some reason.
My thoughts are super scattered. The list thing helps me, but not necessarily to put them in order. Clearly.
They do the 5 W’s in grade school for a reason, right? To, like, kinda clear up any confusion? The thought of explaining my story all at once exhausts me, so I’m trying to take it bit by bit. This post is just so any potential reader (hey, wassup) kinda understands what the fuck I’m doing here?
Who: Ya, me. Hurlwinds. Sure.
What: am I doing? Yeah, not entirely sure. I’ll figure it out.
When: Hopefully every day for the year I think I paid for to own this domain? I’m not sure (about a lot obviously). Point being, I want to keep doing this. And if I don’t write for a couple of days, I’m fucking up again. And if I fuck up again after writing every day, maybe I can go back and see where I let myself slip mentally, because the mental relapse always happens first, right?
Where: I live in Texas, but I don’t think that helps clarify anything? However, yee-haw.
Why: am I writing about my life? Yeah, it’s fairly uninteresting, but look no one has to read it. I’m trying to keep myself sober. To keep myself from dwelling because I won’t do the talking, but hell I’ll do the writing. This is for me because bottling things up is what leads to me picking up the bottle every time. And if I pick it up again, good lord it better be because I want to smash it.