itβs surreal to read how yβall refer to βthe alcoholicβ or βthe addict.β
we have names, faces, livesβ¦weβre real people.
which we understand better than you how much harder that makes things on everyone.
i've seen this situationβ¦this inevitable endβ¦arise so many times that i can no longer feign shock or even pity. countless people in the various meetings I attend, some passing acquaintances and some genuine friends, all gone from relapses or never got their hands in the dirt and walked away and more than a few who seared hot metal at 1200 fps through their skull.
I hate it for what it is and i genuinely hate it for the loved ones and friends, but it just is. itβs what inevitably happensβ¦no different than the sun going down.
real people with real names.
next.
I canβt muster much up anymore, not even the βthere but for godβs Grace.β and i honestly donβt know what that says about me: am i a heartless cad, in denial, tired, uncaring. dunno.
what I do know is that I have a life to live and shit to do with what i have been gifted, and i gotta go.