Never Fully Sober

 Sometimes I wake up and I don’t even know what version of me I’ll meet today. Some mornings I’m light, I crack jokes, scroll through my phone, smile at nonsense, pretend things are easy and other days, the silence in my head is loud enough to drown own thoughts. It is strange, you know being in the middle of everything and still feeling like you’re standing outside, watching your own life pass by. There is this tiredness that doesn’t go away, not even with sleep. Maybe it is the job, the routine, the endless circle of morning shifts, afternoon shifts, night shifts, maybe it is the constant need to show up even when your mind doesn’t. The pay comes in, you budget it, send something home, save a little, eat, transport, rent and then boom there is nothing left. It’s like working hard to stay in one place. You start wondering if this is what growing up really means survival dressed up as purpose.

I think too much about life, i mean isn't that normal. i think about what I should have done differently, i think about the people I miss but don’t talk to anymore. Sometimes I feel guilty for not being around my family enough, like I owe them more than what I’m currently capable of giving. They look at me like I’m doing fine, but they don’t see the cracks I cover with small laughs and long nights. I tell myself I’m fine, that I’m strong, that everything will eventually make sense but then there are days where I just don’t feel like myself. I scroll through my phone, see people living fast, posting smiles, holding their dreams in their hands and I wonder if I’m running late in life’s race.

There is comfort in noise, in a drink, music and deep conversations that don’t ask for honesty. They say people drink to forget but I don’t drink to escape, I drink to pause, to let the noise in my head breathe for a while, to breathe for a few hours without my head spinning. To forget that I’m the one people expect to hold it together. It is not even about the alcohol anymore, it’s about silence. A silence that feels like peace for a few minutes before it turns back into loneliness. Some nights I wish someone could see through the jokes, through the I’m good I always say. I wish someone would ask twice because most times, I’m not good, I’m just surviving for myself, for my family, for whatever future version of me that might finally figure things out.

Life has a way of humbling you, you work, you plan, you pray and still feel like something is missing. Maybe it is love, maybe it is peace, maybe it is just rest, the kind that doesn’t come from sleeping, but from knowing you’re where you’re meant to be. I’m not there yet, I’m still learning. Still trying to make sense of my own silence, still showing up every day with tired eyes and quiet hope, still believing that one day, I won’t need the noise, the drink, the distractions that I’ll finally breathe and mean it. Until then, I’m somewhere between trying to be okay and pretending I already am. I laugh loud, I work hard and I love deeply, even when I hide it. But deep down, I’m just a man trying to hold it together in a world that doesn’t pause for anyone and maybe, just maybe that is enough for now.