You know that walking around the room, looking for something that you know in your right mind probably still isn't there. You do it without much forethought, and you can't stop picturing the exact spot you left it ... whatever it was.
And I'm feeling stupider and more guilty by the minute, because if there are any ghosts watching me right now, I just know that they are having just as hard a time looking at me as I am looking for it.
And I know all too well that I should just stop it.
Just motherfucking stop it.
Let's recap, shall we?:
My mother's dead.
My father's dead.
My aunt's dead.
All of the pets I've had over the years are dead.
And, for all intents and purposes, at this time in my life, I might as well be dead too.
I didn't drink.
I didn't blow fat rails of coke up my nose.
I didn't roll good weed up and get high as a kite.
But I took some pills.
Some bad pills.
And you know what?
They made me feel awful.
How's about that?
I took them because a man called my last name from around the corner of my house as I was crying my eyes out and handed me an envelope.
I scribbled a "name" on it and ran inside and took some.
And now, a week later, they are all gone.
And my aunt is still dead.
In fact, I went and picked her ashes up at the funeral home today and put them alongside my mother's.
And now I'm going to lay down on the couch that is across from both urns and hope that they can get together on this and come up with a suitable penance.
I don't want the damn things anymore.
They've only caused me trouble.
And now they're feeding the bacteria in the sewer like they should have a week ago.
I apologize to me
I apologize to them.
I apologize to you.
And I hope this makes a difference, no matter how small.
Thanks for reading,
F.A.J.
And on we go ...
4 comments:
You have been in my thoughts and prayers for the last few days, anxiously awaiting your next post, hoping you would not succumb. So now what do you do, you pick your self up and start again. YOU ARE A SURVIVOR, YOU WILL MAKE IT THROUGH. There is no other option.
Stay strong...Sally
Alex - You are one of the most humble, caring and honest people I have ever met in my life.
While you were in a moment of weakness, a perfect stranger handed you a package full of pills. How insane is that? You took them. You probably felt really good.
I probably would have done the same thing. I know when my Mom was recovering from surgery, the only thing I could see in her cluttered bedroom was that bottle of dilaudid. It almost looked as if it had a halo. It appeared as if the bottle were back lit, a beacon beckoning me back to the world of active addiction.
I didn't go astray with those but since then I have picked up, surrendered and began walking the road to recovery, yet again.
You took the pills, well guess what, we are addicts, we use. That is what we do. When we are not using is when we are swimming upstream and avoiding conventional behavior, an amazing feat any day of the week.
Confession without change is bullshit. I am really proud of your subsequent actions.
I am glad you had this experience. Perhaps it numbed the pain for a little while. But you found out, as I have ... once you have a little bit of recovery and you are dedicated to changing your lifestyle, getting high will never feel the same again.
I am glad you are alive to tell your story. After all they are so well written and absolutely fascinating.
Your Brother in the Struggle
Muskie.
Oh darling. I think you just paid your penance with this confession and a small fall is not a leap back into the abyss.
My thoughts are with you and I'm sending white light and virtual hugs your way.
I really don't know what to say...but that there are people out here pulling for you and that are here if you need an ear to bend or whatever we can do to help. I've never met you, but from reading this blog feel like I've come to know you and what I know is that you are a good man and I know you will come through this, just hang on.
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