I am PISSED!

For a couple of reasons, really. Not for anything that I should be pissed off about. Family is doing fine. I’m still employed. I’m back to actually creating things… which is something that has been very hard for me to maintain over the last 2 years.

You see, I have this addiction. It’s nothing sexy like buying women’s panties out of a Japanese vending machine, or taking snap shots of women’s shoes from the secluded corner of a seedy coffee house. Hell, I can’t even claim to carrying the alcohol gene that so many in my family carry and have struggled with for most of their life. I’ve never been the guy to go downtown, in some back alley behind the city bus station and look for the local heroin dealer to feed my non existent fix. Nope my addiction is something that really carries no shame or stigma with it. Anyone can go into any food mart, gas station or grocery store and pick it up. Nope it’s not cigarettes either. God no! I’d rather get drunk, take a bus downtown to a back alley to take pictures of the heroin dealer’s well manicured, I’m sure, feet then smoke a cigarette. Truth be told that might be one of the most disgusting, accepted by all of humanity, habits I’ve ever seen. Want to get swiped left on real quick. Be a smoker.

Anyway… I’m getting way from any point I’m trying to make… What is it they say? I digress.

Energy Drinks. It’s my crack. My not so dirty secret. My secret potion that gets me through working nights and Surviving my sleepless days off.

I know… I said right up front… it’s not a sexy thing (if you’re looking for sexy, please exit this blog immediately, you’ll be sourly disappointed and let down by this ginger of epic-ally bland proportions). But it is my addiction. It’s what makes me pissed. After drinking two a day for a week or so they do something to my brain chemistry. I get irritable. It’s almost like I’m mild mannered Bruce Banner by day (or night) and my anger doesn’t come from the world so much as it does from the sweet, sweet elixir in a can that is Mountain Dew Amp Energy Drink. Yeah, that’s my poison of choice. Strangely Monster, Rockstar, or any of the other multi colored cans that gives promises of better days in your local beverage cooler, have this effect on me. Not as noticeably or as efficiently anyway. Perhaps that’s the problem? Could there be a little something extra in that Hulk colored can that lifts me up and takes me down?

Another thing that pisses me off is simply, I’m aware of this. I know better. I’m smart enough to know better… yet I do it anyway. It frustrates me. I feel like I need to do penance for it like that albino baddy that Paul Battney plays in The Di Vinci Code. Should I strip myself of all my earthly delicates and whip myself into submission?

Ha! … that clearly has more than one meaning. You take your pick.

After doing a vast amount of research with a team of professionals at the off site data recovery haven known as …ahem… Google. …and by research I mean I type into the search box, “Are Energy Drinks Bad For You”. Then I just simply read a few of the links on the first page of information returned.

Hey, it’s better than Wikipedia!

I’ve come to learn what we all know already. Which I knew already. Yes they are bad for you. Like everything else in this world that is so right for us though… right?

So this is my battle. I drink them till I get to the point that I’m no longer in love with myself… and clearly nobody else is either. So I quit. I come to the self realization that this delicious nectar of the Gods just can’t be ingested any longer. Until the next time I don’t get enough sleep and I have a day filled with being a father, or a 12 1/2 hour filled work night where sleeping is not an option. When that happens, I always succumb to the demonic possession of the all mighty energy drink… and it’s always amazing! It’s my drug. It’s my fix.

Not sure what to do about this. My schedule isn’t about to change anytime soon. I’ve heard everything from try to eat an Apple, they have a natural sugar or energy supply. I’ve even started drinking coffee… but if it doesn’t have whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, chocolate chips, and extra shot of Espresso, and any other artificially fattening deliciously added flavoring, I just can’t drink it.

I’m in a heart attack inducing creating my own bad mood time loop. I know I need to just stop… but damn it I’m not sure if I can.

Is there a clinic or an AA group for people like me?

It’s definitely something I’ve got to work on. Until then… *sound of a can popping open* I’ll do my best to stay clean.