“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” — Ernest Hemingway

P!nk - Don't Let Me Get Me

“Fake people, fake smiles, fake love. Everything has to be fake for people. Doesn’t it? Whatever happened to real people, real smiles, and real love.” — Edina Pali

I'm safe up high, nothing can touch me But why do I feel this party's over? No pain inside, you're my protection But how do I feel this good sober?

When I first went on tour it was like a permanent vacation. I had no worries and no concerns. I could be trashed 24 hours a day and it wouldn't make a difference, because nothing was expected of me. And perhaps that is why I did it. I wasn't a "fuck yeah" dancing on the table and making out with groupies kind of trashed, I was more of an alcoholic trashed. Very quickly I hid it. I would drink in bathroom stalls, I would hide booze in other containers. I wouldn't feel right if I wasn't drinking by noon. I was numb.

X knew. He didn't like it, but he was as clueless as I was to try to stop it. He hid booze from me. He watched me, he made others watch me. Z was up my ass all the time since he's X's best friend. But Z wasn't nice about it. He'd say things like " I can't fucking believe that out of all the skanks that want a shot with X he married your drunk ass." That didn't make it better. I drank because I was lonely and scared.  I was out of place. I only had X and there I was defying him. I don't mean defy as in he forebode me to drink, but he loves me. And as I said before he's actually more normal than you'd expect. He doesn't want an alcoholic for a wife an he doesn't want me to be unhappy. Sadly we never figure out how to fix that.
I don't drink anymore. X convinced me that I was too good for that. It was more than that, but that is what it came down to. And after I stopped drinking I started to recoil even more. I started to become obsessive with things and try to figure out ways to break out of this. I also started writing this.

"Three finger whiskey pleasures the drinker, but moving does more than the same thing for me." 

- That line is utter BS. Moving isn't the closest thing to being free. It's the farthest thing. I don't feel free moving all the time. I feel lost and trapped and scared. I feel dis shoveled and wayward. I feel kept. X loves me. I know that. But I find myself more and more using one man's love as my rationalization for my unhappiness. But how do I leave? How can I tell him I want to go home now. And when I go home what will I do? This is all I am now. And at home I'm even less than I am now.

P!nk - Sober (Live Performance) [AMA 2008] HQ