The duality of being me...

It's been a while since I've written anything longer than a Tweet. It's been a while since I've opened up my brain and let the words pour out...

I feel like doing it today.

Something about this time of year, almost every year, really fucks with my brain. Like, in a big way. I will bounce wildly from perfectly happy to uncontrollably fucked up. And it sucks. It's also when I'm at my... uh... most Bourbonness? I should explain that.

I am very much two distinct people residing within the same body.

I am me... and I am Bourbon.

The normal, everyday me is reserved, cautious, anxiety-filled, and seemingly normal person. I try to watch what I say around others, I keep my thoughts to myself, I interact with people at work whom I despise because it's easier than finding a new job... shit like that. I am guarded on what I say... I try to calculate the best thing to say on tweets, facebook posts, etc... I'm very unassuming.

This is the face I wear in public...

But I am also Bourbon.

This may seem silly to you all, but hang on and I'll try to explain...

One night I was talking to Lady Bourbon and I mentioned a post on Twitter and she replied with, "You or Bourbon?" - and that hit me. Because Bourbon IS me. I am Bourbon. But I tend to only let Bourbon out of the bottle here on my blog or Twitter where I am unknown. So I can see why she said this thing.

The Bourbon-Me generally doesn't give a fuck. I'll say what I want. I'll write smut. I'll talk about all the things I'm not "allowed" to talk about in polite society. I take sexy photos of Lady Bourbon and we have kinky good times in the bedroom... and the living room... occasionally the kitchen... maybe a bathroom at some point... most assuredly the playroom. But I digress... The point is - I wish I could be Bourbon full time. I wish I could not give a fuck. I wish I had the confidence and "no fucks given" attitude that I have here, in the safety of internet anonymity.


But life doesn't work that way.


I have a job. I have a family. I have an obnoxious mother-in-law. I have PTA bullshit... or will have I guess when the kids are a little older. And I can't relearn 40+ years of learned behavior. I mean, I guess I COULD, but am terrified of doing it. I'm terrified of just "letting go" and "being me" out of fear of losing my job or my kids (all worst-case scenario shit - which is my anxiety dual-wield specialty).

I'm so trained in this way that I don't really talk about my anxiety, PTSD, etc on my "normal" accounts all that much. I have no problem sharing on Bourbon because, well, nobody's going to call me out at work for it or other strange shit.

Lady Bourbon and hentai.

I try to talk about Lady Bourbon about this - but she's a fucking rockstar and I don't think she can comprehend this at some levels. She is who she is and that's fucking it. I, on the other hand, was the youngest of 14 in my family (including cousins) and I was always present for the jackassery, but not allowed to participate in it... stuff like swearing, sex-jokes, etc. So I internalized it all. I still do at times. Not her, though, she blazed her own trail and still does. She says what she wants to say and does what she wants to do. I envy her for that. I tend to be overly cautious and second-guess myself all the time. Bourbon does not. Bourbon says "Hey, fuckers, this is me!" - but only because none of you know who I am.

There are two very real, very distinct personalities in me and I want to somehow merge the best of both... but I don't think that's possible. But around this time of year... the Bourbon side seems to come out a little more. I get more sexually aware. I start craving things that aren't the norm. I start having vivid sex dreams and I want Lady Bourbon to do some really sexy things to me/for me... It'll last for a month or two, then slack off... then build back up... then slack off and then it goes away for a while - You'll note that I've not written smut since fucking MARCH... Maybe it's the Winter me? Who the fuck knows. Sometimes it makes me feel like Elsa from Frozen... Trying to wear gloves and conceal that shit, yo...

The point is - I am me... but sometimes I feel MORE like me. And I wish I knew of a good way to mesh the two and become someone else...

So this has been my rambling, what-the-fuck moment for today.





Happy Thursday, fuckers!

Smile for anime butt!

Dr. Bourbon and the League of ANNOYING-ASS PEOPLE!

Today in Bad Advice with Dr. Bourbon our question comes from Twitter user, @HeartOfAutumn

She asks:

Dear Doctor Bourbon,

How do you deal with annoying people? Which, to be honest is a vast majority...

The Anxiety of Sleep

Sometimes dreams are awesome. Lady Bourbon is a hyper-vivid dreamer with all sorts of cool shit in her dreams... like Voltron. My dreams are not so cool.

It's been a long time since I've had "fun" dreams. My dreams over the last 10 years or so have all been, more or less, real life while I'm sleeping. Which, as you can imagine, sucks balls. And not in the fun "yeah baby, I like the way you do that" way. More of the "I accidentally fell on the vacuum hose and my balls are being sucked into oblivion and I think I'd rather be dead" kind of way.

Last night's dream though... Holy shit. That was a doozy.

I had a dream in which I was driving my car to the hospital. I called them on the phone to let them know I was coming and that I was having a stroke. In the mirror I could see my face slacken and go lifeless and I lost control of the car as I pulled into the hospital lot. Then I dreamed in 3rd person POV for a while and then back to being me as they tried to fix me. This involved them sticking some sort of needle-like probe into my ear and having fluid run through my brain and out the other ear.

It hurt.

Dr. Bourbon On Hookers and Bourbon

Today in Bad Advice with Dr. Bourbon our question comes from "Brian" via Twitter. 

Brian writes:

Dear Doctor B,
I enjoy coffee, and sex is pretty great, but I haven't found a bourbon I like yet. What do you recommend I try first?

-Brian (@briancebuhl)

Dear Brian,

Bourbon is best enjoyed naked. Just throwing that out there before we get started...

It's the nectar of the gods. Enjoyed by kings and paupers alike. Don't listen to the Jack Sparrow wannabes out there that are "Oh, Rum is sooo good." Those assholes don't know what's good for them... That's why they all have scurvy and STDs.

Bourbon on the other hand...

Bourbon is like prostitution. You get what you pay for. Do you want to have a good night, but feel rather awful and potentially dirty in the morning? Then $10 will do it for ya!

Living With BPD and PTSD - a Guest Post by Ana Hannah

My Guest Author Today is Ana Hannah (@merge_9) self-described as "Your friendly online drunk." Currently living in England.

You can follow her on Twitter: @Merge_9
Her stories are available on Amazon and on Wattpad

I met her via Twitter randomly and has become one of my favorite online friends. We have a great deal in common and I am so glad to have her writing this post today.

Living With Borderline Personality Disorder and PTSD 
A Guest Post by Ana Hannah

On bad days, like today, I struggle thinking of words to put down. I struggle to see the light. Or the purpose. In anything. Unfortunately, these bad days far outnumber the good ones. I have borderline personality disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Now, boiled down to basics, I tolerate my PTSD far better than my BPD. At least with PTSD you know what’s in store – nightmares, anxiety, panic attacks, triggers. Sure, some of those triggers bleed over into other areas of life. For example, I am not able to go outside. On the rare occasions that I do, I feel like there is a target on my back. This is due to a variety of reasons – I have been sexually assaulted as a child, and as an adult. I have lived through a war and in the wake of the terrorist attacks, I’ve grown to expect danger at every corner. I don’t go out without having several fool-proof scenarios in my head on what I would do if I encountered a hostage situation or if I’m affected by an attack.

What Dreams May Never Come...

Earlier today I posted a list to my Twitter Feed about the things I've wanted to do but fell short of...

These have been my half-assed dreams as an adult. Things I was 100% passionate about for a week or so until I realized I didn't have the time or money to commit to any of them. They are my dead dreams... for now. I will now go into detail on these dreams and why they've all died....

Mental Health Day...

Yesterday was the 2018 National Mental Health Day... and I took the day off of work for Mental Health Reasons.


Well, that, and to spend time with my wife and kids.

The irony being - calling in fake-sick to work... gave me a fucking panic attack. I suffer from PTSD. Sometimes horribly so. And yesterday, while having a good time out with my wife and kids - I had a little bit of a freak out.

When I do things like call in sick when I'm not, or give my kids off to my parents to go do something for myself, I get horrible guilt. This guilt compounds over time and causes anxiety. The anxiety builds up and then BAM! I get a full blown panic attack all because I wanted to take time for myself. And this is killing me...

So, as my day went on, we were having fun and I went into the local bookstore to look for some good books. This store is about as big as my living room and is floor-to-ceiling books. They have shelves everywhere and it's a narrow, confined space with no circulation, no sound, and it's hot. I... already starting to stress out from being home... started to get really uncomfortable in this place. My ears were ringing, I couldn't catch my breath, I felt like the books were going to collapse on me and kill me... it was a good time.*

When we got home I was drenched in panic-sweat and my heart felt like it was trying to beat out of my chest. So I went upstairs, turned the lights off, and curled up with the cat for 2 hours and tried to calm down. It helped a little, but not much.

Mental Health is no joke. And we all need to take care of ourselves. BUT... how can I do this when taking time to myself actually CAUSES me anxiety??  I can't stand my fucking job and it is, literally, killing me with its stress and bullshit.

What I'd like to do is sit back, smoke a shitload of weed, and try to relax... but I can't. I'm desperately trying to find a job closer to home and they all still test. I'd LIKE to find some sort of medication that helps, but the last one they put me of turned me into a fucking paranoid monster.  Seriously - that shit was awful. My wife and I both agreed it was better for me to be the way I am than the paranoid, weirdo that the pills caused... I would wake up in the middle of the night, wide awake, worried about the most ridiculous shit. I was suspicious of everyone and everything - including my wife which was a big red flag... I've been off of that shit for a few months now and things are MUCH better.

It sucks.

It all fucking sucks. 

I drink more now than I ever have in my life... which is saying something when you look at my
twenties. But it's sometimes the only way I can shut my brain off long enough to get some sleep. Then the problem arises that drinking causes dehydration and dehydration causes high blood pressure and high blood pressure helps to cause the anxiety. It's a vicious fucking circle of bullshit. But drinking seems to be the one and only option to my since our country has a hard-on for calling mental illness a weakness and shunning people... and then we destroy our healthcare in the name of political theater...

Then - to make it better - I try to explain to my boss that "sometimes I just need a minute to process some shit. I'll be fine, just let me calm down." And she - being one of those people who has done everything you've done, only better, and has advice about fucking EVERYTHING tries to belittle my PTSD with "Well, when my dad died I had some PTSD, but coming to work really helped get me back on track."

REALLY?

FUCKING REALLY???

You're DAD was sick for six years and his death was not sudden. While I, in no way, doubt that it was traumatic... It's not the same thing to be in your fifties and losing a parent as it is to have been in my twenties and watching people fucking burn to death in Iraq. Sorry. It's not a contest... but if it was, FUCK YOU.


AH - damnit. Now I'm all pissed off and forgot where I was going with this...

Take care of yourself, people. I mean - really TRY and take care of yourself. Take time for YOU. Take time for your loved ones... and Don't let all of the bullshit in the world weigh you down and pull you under.


*It was not, in fact, a good time at all...

Suicide and Life...

I'm on my... 6th? Cup of coffee already.  Which isn't truly unusual... but today isn't the normal level of tired from general insomnia -  Last night stayed up late, talking my friend out of killing herself...

It was not fun. I did not enjoy it.

But I did it. And my friend is still alive this morning... And, for that, I am happy.

This is not the first time in 40 years I've done this... and that is a sad, sad thing.

The friend in question was not one of my former Army mates. She is someone I've known since kindergarten who has been sexually abused by a family member for most of her life and is now in an emotionally and physically abusive relationship... And nothing I can say will make her feel like the good person we all know her to be. The abusive assholes in her life have her believing THEIR bullshit.

It's times like this I wish we had a Purge Night... well, sort of. Not really... I mean, I'm not advocating violence... but I sure as shit would love to beat the ever loving shit out of her family member and dickhole of a so-called boyfriend... but, alas, that is not an option.

All I want to do is lift my friend up where she needs to be so she can take the time needed to look after her own happiness and not rely on the assholes she's known.

Why do people have to be assholes like that? Why must people degrade and humiliate others into thinking they're somehow LESS??  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

Look - if you're reading this and you know someone in a relationship that is toxic - talk to them. Don't wait until you see a last-ditch call for help on Facebook before reaching out. I've not been in close touch with my friend in a few years. I've moved away... but when I saw her reach out, then delete the post - I called her. And we talked.

Talk to someone if they need it. Be a friend. Take the time out of your day to make sure your friends, family and loved ones make it to tomorrow. It can get better. It will get better. But only if we all remember that we're in this together...

Now, here's a cat photo to help you through your day:

I thought about using one of those hairless cat photos - but they look like ballsacks. So... no. 

BE GOOD, PEOPLE!!!