Tequila in my coffee.

I don’t put tequila in my coffee, but sometimes I wish I did.

I work a full-time job where I barely make ends meet and my boss is homophobic.

I get screamed at by people who could be named Karen for things completely out of my control.

I work my ass off in school just for some other flawed human being’s opinion to knock down my GPA.

Most of the time, I’m too depressed to clean anything and too busy to care.

My anxiety steals any ounce of energy I have.

Dating completely sucks, and I get ghosted like it's a hobby.

I have a nose like a bloodhound and my roommate has a lizard that smells like rotting cheese.

And while we’re talking about smells, my fridge smells like cold garlic that’s been through a garbage disposal mixed with a restaurant walk in and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

My roommate has one cat that looks like Ron Swanson and another one that hides under my bed and hisses at me.

My cat walks all over the kitchen counter and my laptop while I’m doing homework, no matter how many times I attempt to correct the behavior.

My mom won’t go to therapy and my dad is a narcissist that doesn’t know how to apologize.

My ex-wife looks like Jimmy Neutron, and she is also a narcissist AND a former marine which means that half the state of Ohio plus about 25 people around the world think I’m an evil bitch.

Everything was going well until the check engine light in my car came on and no matter how many times I put air in my tires, they seem to deflate 2 weeks later. Also, I just realized that my car takes synthetic oil and not a blend. And that sounds expensive.

So, yeah. Sometimes I wish that I put tequila in my coffee.

Especially on the days that I wake up from nightmares and I’m so dissociated that I’m not sure if I’m awake or still sleeping.

Those are the days I REALLY wish I put tequila in my coffee.

But I promised myself I wouldn’t be like my father. I promised myself I wouldn’t drown in a bottle of fermented fake therapy.

I promised myself I wouldn’t get lost inside of a beer can.

I promised myself it wouldn’t be my rabbit hole.

So, I don’t put tequila in my coffee.

I go to a job with a homophobic boss even after I have nightmares. I’ve learned to hold my breath when I open the fridge and when I walk past my roommate’s room. I lock my cat out when I do homework and I scream in my car to deal with my shitty professors. I’ve accepted that my mom will never go to therapy long enough for it to make a difference and my father is so stuck in his ways you may as well call him human molasses mixed with gorilla glue. I’ve learned not to care about what the state of Ohio has to say about me because clearly, I have enough to worry about. And I don’t worry too much about the people around the world that may or may not hate me because well, my bank account and my anxiety don’t let me travel much. I clean on the days I can and forgive myself for the rest. I take a deep breath, (but not too deep because I may end up smelling some rotting trash 3 miles away) and I keep going. Without tequila in my coffee.