Sobriety Has Never Been Good To Me

Where is the damn off button? I swear if i have to vividly visualize one more fucking awful, tragic, horrifying, or just plain freaky scenario I am going to do brain surgery on myself with a size B crochet hook and a dirty purple plastic spoon.
Of course then I would have to be very considerate of my fragile mental state not only the physical sense but in the non-corporeal as well. This would probably lead to tragedy, misinterpretation of intent,  and all other fuckery that human beings are capable of and exercise every single day. There's a novel here somewhere. One that if ever written will cause readers to look up from the page and ponder deeply, "Really why a purple spoon ?"
Because that is the sum of its parts.