A Fucked Up Family Funeral revised

The joke, "What's the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral? One less drunk." sums up my family perfectly. The first time I went to a wake for a non-relative, my mom warned me that funerals are sad, solemn occasions. I had no idea because funerals on both sides of my family sound like a party.

It was so incredibly great to see everyone. I gotta hand it to death - it sure knows how to bring the living together.

After the funeral we went to a dive bar called Moroney's. Naturally. We were all drinking, dancing, laughing, having a blast. My cousin Timmy and I always had a nice connection, so we were buying each other non-stop shots. Then, predictably, all hell broke loose...

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If you check my blog every day (thank you!), you would have read the details to hell breaking loose.  My brother read it and asked me to take it down.  I listened.

Without going into details, it was a really bad night.  At this point there are two things upsetting me most:

1.  My ragesnake made an appearance. 

2.  I've been drunk almost every day since Tuesday.

My body is beat up.  My mind is beat up.  Everything is beat up.  I called Cee to get an appointment, but I haven't heard back yet.  I actually ran into her Thursday night while MDLL and I were on our way to our TWO YEAR MEETIVERSARY dinner.  (Excited much?)  I took it as a sign I really do need therapy right now.

2012 has been the best year of my entire life.  Sincerely. I've felt good, got the guy, had tons of fun and am HAPPY.

I'm not happy right now though. I'm not happy with my weight gain or the fact I can't fit into any of my clothes.  I'm not happy I've been drinking until I black/brown out.  I'm not happy my fingers are bloody stumps.  I am EXTREMELY unhappy with what down after the funeral. 

Today's a new day though.  I'm forcing myself to smile and be positive.  This past week was the roughest one in a long time.  I will explore what happened, learn from it, and move on.