Code Red Mountain Dew is probably one of the worst soft drinks in existence; I drink them every chance I get. I am not a soft drink person, but I will have one if I really feel like wrecking myself. I usually drink them after I have accomplished something physically, thereby giving myself permission to feel horrible.

If I am going to drink something as unhealthy, sugary, nasty, and overall sketchy as Code Red, it will most likely be alongside a bag of donuts or some greasy pizza. I know that the ingestion of these things have consequences, therefore I want to take them all in at the same time. Eating and drinking these kinds of things makes the punishment more pronounced and I can be confident that I will feel terrible for the next couple of days.

I think that there is a part of me that appreciates knowing why I feel so bad. If I drink Code Red, partake in peanut butter cups, and eat greasy pizza, I know why I feel terrible. If I can identify the problem, I can convince myself that I now know how to avoid that problem (meaning that I will stay clear that problem in the future).

When I drank and smoked cigarettes, I used to treat them the same way I do Code Red. If I drank too much and had a terrible hangover, the first thing I would do is wake-up and smoke a few more cigarettes. The post-drunk cigarettes made me feel awful and only dried out what little life was left in my brain from the night before. However, I took some strange comfort in being able to identify what was wrong with me, convincing myself that I could avoid it in the future.

I have a need for certainty.  If I am feeling ill or off-centered, I look for a reason. I want to keep things simple, so I look for one particular driver for feeling sub-par. If there is no glaring explanation for why I am feeling off-kilter, I create one. I invent a villain. I make someone else the problem. I build the antagonist and I play the victim. This creates a degree of certainty and relinquishes me from responsibility for my own emotions.

The next time I find myself huffing, puffing, and full of rage or negative emotion, I want to identify who is my Code Red.

Who made me the victim?

Who is responsible for my unease and imbalance?

Who is the enemy?

Certainly, I can’t be held accountable for my own feelings, right?

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,


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