Alcohol & Drugs: Destroyers of Lives

Drugs and alcohol may have ruined my life.  As I've mentioned here before, there certainly were problems before I became acquainted with drugs and alcohol, but they have definitely taken a toll on my life. 

Considering the first time I got drunk, I should have stopped right then and there.  I had never gotten drunk before.  My mother was at her night job, so I was alone in the house.  I was a high school student at the time.  I knew nothing about alcohol.  I started with a drinking glass full to the brim with blackberry brandy: straight and warm.  I drank it down.  Then I got to work on a quart of vodka: also straight and warm.  I almost finished it, and I probably would have, but I stopped because my mother returned.  I could have drank myself to death.  I vomited in my sleep that night.  I could have choked to death on it; many people have died that way.
Usually, when people first drink alcohol, they don't like the taste of it.  If we only followed our instincts and stopped right after that first sip, which is the smart thing to do. 
Even when I was a drinker, I thought liquor stores were evil places, and they are.  They supply the alcoholic with what he or she needs to kill themselves. 
I used to smoke weed.  I've wasted so much money on it.  After many wasted years, I finally quit smoking it.  But, thanks to Facebook, I reconnected with an old college friend (the guy I wrote about in the "Frenemy" post), and, he, being a bad influence, got me back to smoking it again.  Even a moment of clarity didn't get me to stop when I should have.  I was watching a movie that I ultimately didn't like much called Old Joy.  However, I took something very important away from it.  The movie involved 2 friends hanging out in the woods.  One of them smoked weed, and the other one didn't.  Even though I was smoking at the time, I thought it was pathetic that one of them needed to get his little pipe out and smoke over and over again while the other guy didn't.  I don't want to be the guy that needs it; I want to be the guy who doesn't need it. 
Smoking weed made me cough violently plenty of times, which hurts.  When we cough as a result of smoking, it's the body's way of saying it doesn't like smoke, that it's not good.  Smoke blackened my lungs.  Being high is fine, but not coming down from it, which, of course, is inevitable.  Then you need more.  More and more and more: it's never enough.  It's a big trap.  And it contributed to my depression.  I was depressed coming down from it, and depressed the day after smoking: sometimes 2 days after.  In college, the only semester I got good grades in is the one before I smoked weed for the first time.  After that, they went down and stayed there. 
People who drink risk getting a DWI.  If a sober person gets into a fight with someone who's drunk, who do you think the police are going to believe?
People who smoke weed put themselves in a weak position.  My new neighbors smoke it.  They opened the hall window, probably because they're paranoid and worried about getting caught.  I closed the window.  I have nothing to worry about.  I'm free, because I'm living a clean life.
If you're reading this, I care about you to some degree, because writers want people to read their writing.  Don't drink or do drugs.  They have ruined countless lives.  Life is hard enough without sabotaging yourself, which is I believe is what we do when we abuse alcohol and drugs.
I've been sober since 7/31/16 and clean longer than that.     

Frenemy

I'm trying to let go.  I've been thinking obsessively about my former best friend.  As previously mentioned, I have OCD,  He is a very mean, angry person who has yelled and screamed at me many times for no good reason.  He has kicked me out of his house twice.  I'm very angry about all the shit I've taken from him.
As mentioned previously, I have depression.  I've read books about it.  You're supposed to have friends.  I suppose this is why I've taken so much shit from him.  I was thinking, he's a very angry asshole, but it's better than having no friends.  He knows I have depression, but, obviously, that didn't stop him from being cruel to me.
I'll tell the story of one of the times he kicked me out of his house.  He's an avid gambler.  He talks at length about it, which bores the hell out of me.  Anyway, we were watching a college football game.  As previously mentioned, I don't give a fuck about football, but it was his house, so he had control of the remote.  This happened to be a good game.  One team, that had been way behind, was making an improbable comeback.  I was cheering for them.  My former friend, B, became angry with me, because he had bet against the team.  I couldn't believe it.  He accused me of fucking with him by cheering for the team.  He became very angry.  I pointed out that, if he was losing his bet, it was his fault, and his fault alone, because he placed the bet.  He kicked me out of his house over that bullshit.
I could go on and on about what an asshole he has been to me, and perhaps I'll add to this.  But I'm just trying to let go of my obsessive anger.     

Human Punching Bag

 
My "friend" has kicked me out of his house twice and attempted to kick me out of his car once (It wasn't moving at the time.).
At work, customers have fucked with me.
My neighbor hates me and tries to bother me  He is full of anger towards me.
I'm not happy at home, at work, or out with my "friend."
Only the threat of incarceration, homelessness, and injury keeps me from lashing out against my tormentors.
This is life.
Life is shit.

Tragedy

 
I'll begin with the animals.  Innumerable animal lives have been tragic.  Humans have played a huge part in that: using them any way they see fit.  How many cows would have been great mothers, but weren't given a chance, because their calves were taken away shortly after birth, so people could take the milk instead?  How many pigs, chickens, and turkeys would have made great pets?  I've seen pigs that were pets (on TV).  I saw a pig push a soccer ball around.  I saw a pig put a toy back in the toy box once she was finished with it.  I have cuddled with pigs and given them belly rubs.  When I began to rub their bellies, they acted just like dogs do; they rolled onto their sides so they could get proper belly rubs.  Of course, most pigs aren't pets.  Many of them are kept in gestation crates, where they have no room to walk anywhere, or even turn around.  That's their reality until it's time to be murdered.  Hens make great pets too.  There's an organization called HenPower, which brings hens to senior citizens living in nursing homes.  Hens make great pets, because they're soft, and they don't bite (even though they have every right to bite people considering what we've done to them).  Turkeys have made great pets too.  I saw one running with the family dog and a human friend.  How many great animal friendships would have developed if we hadn't separated them for our own selfish reasons?  The way people have treated countless animals is horrible: denying them a chance to live natural, happy, peaceful lives.
Then there are people who have lived tragic lives.  The cemeteries are full of them.  So many people had so much promise, but life didn't treat them fairly.  As I've mentioned before, people come from 3 basic sorts of families: those that are abusive, those that are unsupportive, and those that are very helpful.  When ti comes to people who have lived tragic lives, none immediately come to mind. That's because many of the lucky people are the rich and famous ones.  Donald Trump had a rich daddy.  I used to act; people told me I was good at it.  So I can't help focusing on actors who have made it as a result of nepotism: Charlie Sheen, George Clooney, and Angelina Jolie are only a few of them.  I could go on and on with that list.
I can't help thinking that my life will end in tragedy: for me, a big one, but, for the world, it wouldn't even register.  I've been told that I'm funny.  I know I haven't shown that side here.  But I've written a lot of comedic material.  Lately, I've been reviewing it and trying to organize it.  I may not have time to do anything with it.  Time, and money, is running out for me.  It turns out that time really is money. When my credit card won't let me have any more cash advances, I'm looking at homelessness or suicide.        
I keep trying to find a job.  I recently "tried out" for a job as a pants presser in a dry cleaner shop.  I was shown how to do it.  It involved 2 machines and an iron.  I dressed up; I shouldn't have.  It was hot there.  Apparently, I didn't do very well.  They didn't call me back.  I tried my hardest, though.  First prize, you live.  Second prize, you die.             

Hanging on by a Paw

Sometimes, all you have to live for is a paw.  These are dark times for me.  However, this weekend, I spent the night at my friend's house.  He has 2 cats: Jack and Berkeley.  I slept on a couch.  Berkeley slept on the couch cushion that was right over my head.  He used to recline on the couch cushion that was closer to my feet.  Because of the location of the TV, I always face the same way when I recline.  Lately, Berkeley has switched cushions he lies on, I think, because he wants to make it easier for me to pet him.  He's a very sweet cat.  So is Jack, but he's a bit of a scaredy cat.
I was sleeping on the couch and I opened my eyes.  I was looking up.  I saw one of Berkeley's paws hanging over the couch cushion.  That sight delighted me.  My friend, Berkeley, slept right above my head.
When I'm depressed, and I often am, I try to remember to think about the sight of Berkeley's paw.   

Mind Alive

 
My mind is alive today.  I spent yesterday with my closest human friend (My friends consist of dogs, cats, and squirrels as well.).  He is a biological parent.  I finally told him my true feelings about biological parenthood.  I think it is "messed-up" (edited) for people to bring other people, and animals, into this brutal world.  This resulted in a spirited discussion.  My friend, who I'll call Herb, is an intense debater.  If he disagrees with something I said, he'll tell me.  He disagreed with the statement I made.  He said that he thinks "virtually everyone" is happy.  Now I disagree with that statement vehemently.  Just take a look at the suicide rate.  Suicide is consistently a leading cause of death worldwide.  Forgive me if you're aware I've written this here before, but it's only one sentence, and I think it bears repeating.  The American media, by and large, does not report suicides (with the obvious exceptions of stars like Kurt Cobain and Robin Williams), because the CDC has asked them not to.  Why?  Because when the media reports suicides, it leads to more (copycat) suicides. 
Forgive me, I believe I'm currently experiencing hypomania, which has been redlined here (and "redlined" too, but I'll use it anyway), but The New York Times uses this word, and if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me.  I'm irritable.  I think it's becasue I smoked with Herb yesterday.  According to him, he and "virtually" everyone else are happy as clams (Which is a good one.  Do you think clams are happy?  I don't.), but, as he himself has admitted, he self medicates.
When I told Herb how I feel, and he disagreed, and I admitted my philosophies are based on my own experiences, his response was predictable: "Boo-freaking-hoo. (edited)"  I'm a cry baby.  I'm a whiner.  I'm not afraid to be called a whiner.  I used to be a whiner, then I realized that nobody gave a damn, because everyone has their own problems to deal with.  So I stopped being a whiner.  But I recently thought that "Don't be a whiner." is just a way for the insanity to continue.   "I'm miserable, my life isn't going the way I want it to, but I won't whine about it.  Then I'll bring one or more people into the world, and if they're miserable, I'll tell them to stop whining."  And the vicious cycle continues.
Herb also said that people aren't gonna wanna hang out with someone who thinks that life sucks.  That's understandable, but it's more important to me to be REAL.            

Got to Give It Up

 
I haven't been posting much original stuff here lately.  It seems like my page views took a nose dive when I shared my thoughts about god and religion.  People will be offended by my thoughts on this subject, but I'm likewise offended when a Christian says that anyone who hasn't accepted Jesus as their lord and savior is going to burn in hell.
I had a very uncomfortable psychiatrist appointment this week.  As usual, I met with her and the director of the mental health place I've been going to for a while now.  The appointment was going the way it usually does, when the director asked if I'd gained weight.  I admitted I had.  They began to interrogate me about the weight gain.  I was asked if I still exercise.  The answer was yes.  Then I was asked if I drink.  The answer was yes.  How much?  About 5 times a week.  This is where the mood in the room changed.  How much do you drink?  I had to do a little math in my head, because I usually drink vodka, and I measure out 1 ounce of it into each drink, which is 2/3 of a shot.  I answered that I drink about 5 drinks a day (5 times a week) or more.  The mood really got dark from that point on.  After all, it was clear that I was a fat drunk: definitely not the best day of my life.  Both of them stopped smiling and looked very concerned.  Then it was established that I've been drinking like this the entire time I've been on Prozac.  I was told that the combination of Prozac and the alcohol I'd been drinking wasn't good for my health.  They are concerned about my liver.  I need to see a doctor and get my blood tested.  It was also established that my friend thinks I'm annoying when I drink too much, and I black out regularly.  I was told these are enough good reasons to quit.  I was asked about other drugs.  I admitted to smoking weed a few times a month.  They seemed to be much more concerned about the alcohol.  I asked if I could finish what I had left: 4 beers and less than 1 bottle of vodka.  I was told I should pour it out.  I probably won't do that.  I plan to give it to a friend.
I haven't drank any alcohol since that meeting, which was 2 days ago.  I want to quit.  I'm much more likely to feel better the day after not drinking than if I had drank.  I don't like going to the liquor store.  I think liquor stores are evil places.  When someone goes into business manufacturing alcohol, or they sell it in stores, they are, in my opinion, involved in evil activities.  People drink themselves to death.  People drink and drive and kill others as a result.  People get drunk and become violent.  I'm hoping I can quit.  Unfortunately, alcohol is everywhere.
These are lyrics to a song by the great Thin Lizzy that are applicable:

       "Got To Give It Up"

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my mama and tell my pa
That their fine young son didn't get far
He made it to the end of a bottle
Sitting in a sleazy bar

He tried hard but his spirit broke
He tried until he nearly choked
In the end he lost his
Bottle drinking alcohol

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

Tell my brother I tried to write and
Put pen to paper but I was frightened
I couldn't seem to get the words out right
Right quite right

Tell my sister I'm sinking slow
Now and again I powder my nose
In the end I lost my bottle
It smashed in a casbah

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff

I've been messing with the heavy stuff
For a time I couldn't get enough
But I'm waking up and it's wearing off
Junk don't take you far

Tell my Mama I'm coming home
In my youth I'm getting older
And I think it's lost control
Mama I'm coming home

I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff
I've got to give it up I've got to give it up
That stuff  

Sometimes, it's not easy to be a vegan

 
I got into an argument with my best friend last night.  He is someone who eats meat.  He is also someone who is religious to the point of not wanting to take the Lord's name in vain.  He also doesn't want to hear me doing it.  I believe it's because he has a young daughter and close family members that are devout Christians.  Lately, I'd gotten a little tired of him scolding me for using language he doesn't appreciate hearing.  I couldn't help thinking it's hypocritical for him to get all hot and bothered by people saying words.  Words don't do physical damage.  "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me" does sound childish, but there's a lot of truth to it.
We were in a friend's car, on the way home, when he scolded me for something I said.  I became angry.  I pointed out to him that words are just sounds that fly harmlessly through the air.  However, when he spends money on meat in a store or a restaurant, he is supporting cruelty to animals.  I yelled.  With the exception of disabled people, those who are afflicted with a serious disease, kids, and elders, people who eat meat are either ignorant or selfish.  They're either ignorant of the suffering they're supporting when they buy meat, or, they know about it, and they don't care, which would make them selfish.
He pretty much said he doesn't want to hang out with me anymore, to which I said something like "Fine!"  Then there was no more conversation for the duration of the trip.  It was quite an uncomfortable silence among 4 people in a car.  Then we were dropped off at his house.  The initial plan had been for me to sleep over, and he'd drive me home the next day.
But he asked me, "Are you ready?"  I knew he meant ready for the trip home.
I responded "sure."  So he drove me home in complete silence.  It was only broken when we arrived at my apartment complex when I said "thanks" to him before getting out of his car.
I tend to not confront friends and family about eating meat, but this time, I couldn't help myself.  I had thought he was being hypocritical by being so focused on words and not actions: like eating meat and supporting murder and suffering in the animal world.  It finally came out.  Our friendship has survived much.  I hope it will survive this.       

Loneliness

Bumpkin

I am a natural loner, but it doesn't mean I want to be that way.  Loneliness can feel like being crushed.  Sometimes, we call a friend and wait to hear back from him or her.  If loneliness is crushing you, and you want to talk to your friend, then don't wait for him or her to call back; call again.
Last week, I discussed the dirty dozen of fruits and veggies.  On the flip side, here are the clean 15 (source-PBS).  "All the produce on 'The Clean 15' bore little to no traces of pesticides, and are safe to consume in non-organic form." This list includes:

• onions
• avocados
• sweet corn
• pineapples
• mango
• sweet peas
• asparagus
• kiwi fruit
• cabbage
• eggplant
• cantaloupe
• watermelon
• grapefruit
• sweet potatoes
• sweet onions