Bourbon, Sex, and Coffee.
Welcome to my fucking blog. My mostly private, alone-time, blog where I'll post my middle-aged missives. **Now with occasional guest-authors!!**
13 March, 2022
Childhood fears come to life.
17 May, 2021
It isn't "goodbye" it's "take care of yourself"
Good morning.
I started this account to talk about the things I can't talk about openly with my friends and family. I started this account to talk about sex and life...
Gratuitous Lady Bourbon |
And it has been good.
But life is different now. I've spoken about the things I wanted to speak about. I wrote some smut. I wrote about my alcoholism and depression... but none of these things are really needed anymore... and I'll be real honest, everything changed. Like going back to your old haunts and seeing how they've changed and become gentrified. It's just not the same...
My seasons are changing and I'm going to put this hoodie in the drawer.
I'm not leaving, but I am deleting the account from my phone. If I need this, I'll go dig it out.
I cannot say thank you enough to the people who have helped me and continue to help me - you are all FUCKING ROCK STARS!
Take care of yourself. Know that I'm good - nothing bad is going on here, I'm just moving on. I've changed - I think I have anyway... or hope I have. And I hope I'm in a better place.
Time to put on my big boy panties and ride off into the sunset.
Take care of yourself you sexy mo-fos. My email address will still be active so hit me up if you need me - sexcoffeeandbourbon@gmail.com
18 April, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 6: The Fear of Being Me
I've been mostly quiet on social media as of late. I've been doing a lot of soul searching as it were. And by soul searching, I guess I really mean getting drunk and contemplating why I am getting drunk.
The answer is simple - I am afraid of who I am going to be when sobriety hits. I'm afraid that being sober will prove to me just how boring I am as a human being.
Drinking every night allows me to not care.
If I'm drinking I get to relax, unwind, and just not give a fuck about what I'm doing and who I am. It's like hitting snooze on reality. I'm able to hit that button and, internally, pretend I'm a youthful twenty-something drinking the night away in my old apartment while watching 'Lost' or 'Stargate SG-1' reruns at midnight...
My kids are young and they know what Bourbon is. They know what beer is. And they know that Daddy drinks one of them with dinner all the time and pretty much any time he's outside...
And that shit needs to stop.
I'm not sure if I can Cold-Turkey that shit... But I need to change. I know I do.
I'm living a life chronically under-hydrated. I wake every night around 2am when the alcohol wears off and my body remembers that the Check Engine light came on months ago. I am grossly out of shape for a man who used to run 5 miles at a 6-minute mile pace.
And there is my goal... to run 5 miles. In one go. Without stopping. Not at a 6-minute pace... but I'd be happy with 8 or 9.
To achieve this goal, I'm going to need to do a few other things before then...
First, I'll need to lose some weight. Right now I'm riding a less-than-healthy 20 extra lbs of swinging Dad-Bod than just over a year ago... and it's not very sexy or conducive to running. I think my knees would literally fucking explode should I try to run in my current shape. This will require a new way of eating. Not eating an entire bag of chips is a good start... as well as smaller portions, more water, less sugar, less chocolate, and more getting up off my ass throughout the day.
Second, I'll need to find time to work out/get up and moving. Right now I work all day, but there is time in there for me to move stuff around. I need 3-4 days a week where I can get out of the house and move. Just move. Walk, jog, hike, bike, and not be a stationary body.
Third, I'll need to curb my drinking. I'm willing to allow myself 1 night... 2 on special occasions to have a drink or unwind. As much as I'd like to go full-on sober... I'm not dumb enough to believe I can.
So - today is April 18, 2021... I will start this week with small, manageable steps. Chicken and rice for lunch... more salads and green, leafy things. Less fried food and pizza... and more water.
Who knows, maybe somewhere down below the layers of alcoholic fog and denial, I might find out that I'm a decent human being with some good, hidden talents. Jesus... I am capable to doing a lot with my current state and I feel like it's driving with the parking brake on. Maybe I'll level up... Maybe I'll blow up. Either way - it could be an interesting journey.
So - Maybe this blog will be less about how much I've been drinking and more about the changes I see in myself. Or maybe I'll just abandon this blog and this persona... leave it behind and forge ahead.
I still love sex, drinking, hentai, sex, more sex, and all the things therein... but Lady Bourbon and I have grown so much in the last 2 years that this persona is no longer needed as the emotional pressure release valve as it used to be...
Who knows.
07 March, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 5: The Other Side
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 5:
The Other Side
Today is Sunday, March 7, 2021... And we are 351 days into the "new normal" forced upon the Bourbon household by the Coronavirus pandemic.
That's right... just under a year ago, I went into work only to find that the governor had closed everything... so I went home looked at Lady Bourbon and said "Well, fuck..." Then the serious drinking began. In a few weeks, we put down literally GALLONS of bourbon, wine, and vodka... And even though we tried to remain upbeat and positive - it's not always easy. As a person with Catastrophobia - as described in the blog entry "There are many anxieties... but this one is mine" - I immediately went to "Well, this will end up like 'The Road' or 'The Stand' before it's over!" - and then I began to plan. And then I continued to have massive anxiety... and depression... and fear... and I coped with it by downing more and more alcohol.
Day drinking? Check.
Night time drinking? Check.
Drinks with dinner? Check.
Drink drink drink drink drink... then suffer through nightmares of PTSD and fear over what would happen in the coming months. It was a really good time for the ole Dr. B.
Some time around June... 3 months into the lockdown/pandemic bullshit, I started going back to the VA hospital for treatment. They assigned me a new shrink - she's not very good, but she offers some outside perspective that I wouldn't normally have so that's good. (Example: My need to plan and prepare probably comes from my departure from Iraq. The unit replacing us decided to ignore our hand-off plans when we left. One week later, 8 of them were dead from an IED.) Then I got assigned an actual psychiatrist and not just a therapist... and this one, despite not knowing me from Adam, offered to put me on some antidepressants.
Look - I am normally 100% against being medicated. I've seen too many of my brothers-in-arms be turned into zombies because the VA just throws pills down their throats and sends them on their way. After holding out for 5 months, I called them up and decided to finally take them up on the offer. Drinking and pretending to be okay just wasn't cutting it.
Now, 3 months into these new meds... I feel like a fucking superstar. And not just the drug-induced false thoughts of "I don't care! La la la la!" - I actually recognize the difference in how things are being processed in my brain... I can actually feel myself regaining my sense of self that I once had way back in the "good old days" of the late 90s. Before 9/11. Before leaving home for Iraq... And I love the way it feels now. I love that I no longer feel that weight of doom and gloom bearing down on me over every little thing. I love the fact that these meds are, in fact, helping to rewrite my brain chemistry to be the way it was before the trauma. Before I lost my sense of happiness and light. The Bourbon of yester-year.I've come out of the long, dark tunnel that I've been walking through for so long. And the other side is wonderfully lit. It is full of luscious green grass, and the sweet smell of flowers and life. The storm clouds are still there in the distance. I can see them. I can still hear the thunder... but I'm enjoying this patch of golden sunshine. It feels like home.It feels like going home again.
Am I still drinking?
Oh, fuck yes. I'm an alcoholic. I can't just turn that shit off. I do, however, enjoy that I've been drinking less. 1 bottle now lasts the week instead of the weekend. I go to bed almost every night at 10:00 instead of midnight or 1am...
The tunnel I've been in for so long was dark. There were window and open spaces here and there, but every time, I'd head back into the dark. I've had friends along the way for part of the journey. I've had Lady Bourbon walking hand-in-hand through most of this journey... and she got me through the hard parts.My hope is that this re-found sense of happiness and self-worth will allow me to help others. Maybe I can help Lady Bourbon with her anxieties. Maybe I can just be happy with being me and not give a shit about the rest of the world... Who knows.
I just know that I feel so much better today compared to one year ago.
06 February, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 4: Bibo Ergo Sum
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 4:
Bibo Ergo Sum
The problem with giving up a crutch - be it smoking, drinking, drugs, sex, porn... whatever - is that you HAVE to want to give it up. And therein lies the biggest problem in getting sober/clean.26 January, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 3: I Know Why The Caged Bird Drinks
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 3:
I Know Why The Caged Bird Drinks
The day has ended, you leave work... and you have 2 options:
1: Go home
2: Go to the bar
But we are living in a "work from home" environment and the bars are closed... Or at least limited in open seats. So... here you are, sitting at home all day, working on your laptop, answering Skype calls and having Zoom meetings for 8 hours - or 5 hours if you lie like some of my coworkers - and now the metaphorical whistle blows and you're done for the day!
Only you're not.
You've got 2 kids who just showed up from school and they're grumpy and angry and don't want to do their homework. You have a friend texting you because they hate their job. Your spouse is just as unhappy with their job as you are, and you can't scream into the void that you 'JUST WANT EVERYTHING TO BACK TO NORMAL!!!!!'
So... you go to the kitchen at 5PM and pour a drink. And another. And another. By 5:30, you've got a nice buzz and the bullshit from work seems less bullshit-ish. Your kids' whining about school seems less obnoxious. You're able to take a moment, relax, and say, "Well, at least I'm alive and I made money today."
THIS... is the new American dream.
And Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders, and AOC aren't going to magically make this better. You can't legislate happiness folks. You can't legislate morality either... but that's a whole different blog post.
The American dream is now not losing your fucking mind after 8 hours in the "home office" and then changing venues by "going to the kitchen." Jesus, I feel bad for people doing this in an apartment. I would've burned that shit down by now.
So there it is... In glowing technicolor - the life and times of a guy who doesn't want to scream at his kids or spouse so he uses antidepressants and and alcohol to TURN THAT FROWN UPSIDE DOWN!
And I know I'm not alone in this. Fuck, if I was - the term "Happy Hour" wouldn't fucking exist. And Happy Hour has been around longer than I have...
We all just want to get by... but the system is fucking broken. The new American Model is broken even more than the rest. Because we pray at the altar of Capitalism and the money gods need their sacrifices... So work hard, shut up, and ignore your family. Be so down-trodden that by the end of the day you just want to stare at your phone to escape and drink wine or bourbon or beer to just NOT FEEL...
Then wake up, down 3 50mg tablets of Zoloft and go on about your day...
The American. Fucking. Dream...
16 January, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 2: What Dreams May Come
10 January, 2021
Reflections on Depression and Alcohol Abuse Part 1
I need to change things. But that's the same shit I've said before. It's the same shit most people above the age of 25 have said countless times as they inch closer to death and see their bodies and their lives move in a direction that, while inevitable, isn't what was wanted.
19 July, 2020
Surf's up! We're riding the anxiety wave!
15 July, 2020
Your friend turns out to be a sexual predator the other day...
Stopping right there, you could say it was just about a Pen-Name that goes along with the subject matter to sell books is okay.
Sure. No big deal. And, like me, you may have even said "Good for you! Way to come out of your shell and let everyone know!"
But then...
Jesus, but fucking then... This is world we live in.
Look, most of us, if not all, know who I'm talking about. But I'm not going to drop their name here. I don't feel the need, nor the desire. Why? Because it didn't stop at a Pen-Name. Oh, no no no... it went WAY beyond that. And that is where it stopped being cool.
Let us back up.
I use my "Dr. BourbonSex" account as a release. It is a way to hide certain aspects of my life from my friends/family who I know do not feel the same way I do about things. I'm not ashamed of what I like... I just don't want to lose friends and family over it. My Hentai Fetish would literally give my parents a heart attack. My penchant for wearing lace underwear would probably cause both of my brothers and their uber-Christian wives from ever looking at me again... and I'm sure my political ravings, and sordid sexually explicit short-stories over on the ole blog might give the employer some sort of reason to fire me. That would be discriminatory, especially since I've never done it on company property, but still... I digress.
I do NOT use my "Dr. BourbonSex" account as a way to manipulate people, flirt with people who aren't Lady Bourbon, or do anything of the sort. Jesus, I told Lady Bourbon about this account when I made it. We have a very open relationship - Open as in: We tell each other a lot of shit... not Open as in: So, I was swinging at the bar the other day... - That's what makes a marriage a partnership and not a fucking train wreck. I do NOT use this account as a lie, trap, or falsehood. I have, to date, never lied about who I am on here. I will, on occasion, delay posting something for a day or two to prevent outing me IRL... but that's not the fucking point. This account exists with the awareness, and dare I say PERMISSION of Lady Bourbon who shares many of my proclivities and tastes.
And that's where this story starts... with Lady Bourbon.
A while back, in the early days of Dr. Bourbon, MOST, if not all, of my online friends were Erotica authors. It was fun. Ya'll write some sexy shit. My first 20 or so friends are still on a list called "My first friends" and I love them all in their own, individual way. With one exception, now two, I'm still friends with the original 20. Sorcha Rowan among them.
Sorcha was an unrelenting force of sexual innuendo and smutty prose. Nobody here can say that the person known as Sorcha was bad at erotica.... So we laughed, told jokes, etc. Once, Sorcha tried to DM with sexy gifs and talk, I said "knock it the fuck off" and it stopped. Just like that. Became professional almost. Sorcha was a beta reader for me at times. Good suggestions were always made, along with unwanted sexual connotations, but that doesn't bother me because it was never reciprocated on my end. Sorcha was even one of the first guest-posts on my blog with a post about Sapio-Sexuality... loving a person for their brain. I thought it was a good piece.
One night, whilst having dinner at home, Lady Bourbon says "Dude, I need to block Sorcha Rowan on twitter, I think." When I asked why, it turns out that Sorcha "accidentally" sent the wrong gif to Lady Bourbon. - Keep in mind, Sorcha did not KNOW this was Lady Bourbon. This was a non-Bourbon related incident - the gif Sorcha sent was a very explicit, very sexual gif... immediately followed by apologies and whatnot that seemed, at the time, very sincere. Lady Bourbon, under her real name, said "It's cool. No harm, no foul. Not my thing." And that was that...
I confronted Sorcha via my Dr. Bourbon account and said, "please stop hitting on Lady Bourbon, she doesn't go that way." And I meant this as a joke with someone I'd come to know as an internet friend... when the lightbulb finally went off and 2 and 2 were added up to 4 in Sorcha's head, my identity was revealed... To my absolute shock, Sorcha revealed to me that "she" was a "he" named "Bob" and he liked to write Lesbian Fiction and used the name Sorcha to sell and promote his work.
Taken at face value, everything checked out. We became better friends. We talked about bourbon and guns and whatever else. Despite this friendship, Sorcha's RTs were blocked from my feed because, well, let's face it, they were a little too much for everyone.
Lady Bourbon and I thought Sorcha/Bob was a really nice person and never did anything to bother us. In both instances of Sorcha Rowan's unwanted sexual advances, it stopped as soon as we said something and I never gave it much thought... So, you know, cool. Sorcha even wrote erotic fiction about me and Lady Bourbon.
But then I learned more and more about Bob. I learned about his wife and home life. I learned that he kept everything related to Sorcha a secret from his wife. I learned that his wife's lack of shared interests with him and how "Sorcha" was "who he was" on the inside.
( As a man who keeps his inner-most kinks and fetishes out of family talk, I could really say shit about it - even though I disagreed. )
As time passed, Sorcha wrote posts with other people and joint-works... It was my assumption that Sorcha told them that he was actually Bob and things were cool... But apparently I was wrong.
Because then we get the post from last night.
The dime-tour is this: "Hi, my name is Sorcha and I'm actually a married, cis-man. I have been pretending to be a lesbian to write fiction, make money, and engage with online sexual activity with women, under the guise of a being a woman. Even so far as to use the #ourvoices tag."
That's a lot to take in and unpack so to speak.
At first, I was like, "Oh, good for you, Bob. Tell the world that you're a man and do this right."
Then it slowly started to sink in... like watching the defroster work on your window on those cold, wet mornings... one minute, it's all fogged up and then BAM... fucking clear as day.
I was floored.
Consent REQUIRES an informed decision, Bob. What you've just said, what you've just admitted to is disgusting.
The person I'd become quite familiar with over the last 2 years has been engaging in non-consensual online sexual activities. People had talked, flirted, and who knows what else with Sorcha Rowan for who knows how longs with the UNDERSTANDING that it was a lesbian woman... and not a fucking married man preying on them and their vulnerabilities.
The outrage was all over the place. And rightfully so... and I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that someone with whom I'd had many great conversations about writing, marketing, and story ideas was a fucking asshole trying to pass it off some form of courageous act...
What could've been a learning moment, and moment of growth died a fiery death when he tried to make this about how strong and courageous he was?! No. This isn't about your struggle, Bob... fuck you.
And in the middle of that thought is when Bob contacted me telling me Sorcha was dead. I wasn't even sure if I should answer him, but I did. I told him that this would our last conversation. I told him I'd be deleting him from social media. I told him to go see to his family and BE BOB, never Sorcha... Then I blocked him on all of my social media accounts.
I'm really pissed off to be honest.
I value the online friends I make SO much because I am, 90% of time, much closer and honest with the online friends than the ones at home... I assume that, to an extent, these people are the same with me.... that when I find out that one of them is like this... one of them has been fucking over his wife and kids to go do this shit online with other people and hurt them AS WELL... is just too fucking much. It occurs to me, and Lady Bourbon, that he sent her that gif on purpose. He was testing the waters... luckily, we're a happily married dream team and don't fuck around on each other...
And now I sit and write this missive... this Farewell to my so-called friend. I don't have many friends, IRL. They all exist online and Bob's bullshit has put the rest of my online friendships into question. If he's capable of this - who else is? Who else is a closet racist or homophobe? Who else is a raging asshole waiting to shit on my 20 minutes of online freedom and happiness?
Jesus, but fucking then...
My fear is that Bob will harm himself or even commit suicide and that would be awful... He has been a good friend for 2 years of my life. He knows more about me that people I see on a day to day basis...
And, that being said, I never want to speak to him again.
Goodbye, Sorcha Rowan. And Good riddance.