the inner spinner

I am ill at ease. One may wonder how I could possibly be, seeing as how I escaped the brutal winter and bitter cold and instead am basking in the (sometimes) sunlight of those rolling green hills...that are right outside of Dublin itself. I fell asleep and awoke with this same discontentment, of the self-loathing and is it change or the lack thereof that has put me in this mental jumble yet again? I can't shake it.
But how do you change things that perhaps have never changed? How can you decipher changeable to ingrained to learned behavior to self-destructive behavior to needing to change because the world is always changing? All these questions that I have answers to, and the ones I don't, continue to float around in my head without resolve.
Back in the day I would soothe this particular ailment perhaps in writing a poem, or sitting with some friends in the coffee shop...friends that use to be my best friends, whatever that means anyway. But I've grown up enough in the last few years to realize that drinking and rolling a j is much more healthy than writing and talking about your feelings.
Note the sarcasm. Note the defeat.
I'm not sure if it's luckily or unluckily that my system doesn't take well to alcohol, but I know that it definitely doesn't solve my life's conundrums, it provides me with just enough comatose to be able to ramble on. Or it makes me sociable enough to only be considered borderline antisocial as opposed to completely.
This is a web of a mess. How to dismantle it or will it continue to grow forever, becoming more and more intricate the more and more I spin it?