![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Before we get started, a little housekeeping if you will. A small change on your scorecard. m_malcontent, he of the Marvin icon is writing here as fausts_dream. While still an alcoholic and an asshole, FD is in recovery from the former and will try to keep the latter in check.
The entry then
************************************************************
I hadn't forgotten love.
I was in a tight spot, damn near homeless. Buying my malt liquor at 7 A.M which was as soon as Texas blue laws would allow. My hygiene had slipped far enough the manager had stopped making a show of spraying Febreze around when I walked in to purchase my poison and sprayed it directly on my perma-stunned looking face. And I didn't have the pride to walk an extra 15 minutes to the next low grade Stop and Rob, with the strongest, cheapest malt liquor and the "vases" with individual roses you can smoke meth out of, and t-shirts you could wear or tie your arm off with to shoot something up.
I hadn't forgotten love.
But the people who loved me a little had gotten tired of my bullshit and wrote me off and stopped returning my attempts at communication (even the attempts made during the one to 3 hours a day I was both awake and sober) The ones who loved me a lot, well you can't expect someone to have to watch something probably a little worse than death in slow motion, every day as weeks turned to months and months turned to years.
I hadn't forgotten love.
From the classroom.
From the handshake line in a community theater.
From a soft, zaftig woman in my bed, with lips as soft as pillows.
But all of them were so damned far away from me. I had made my choice and only the worst kind of motherfucker refuses to live with their own shit decisions. No matter how much agony, no matter how expensive the deal, you made it, don't be a fucking welsher.
This is where a decent writer would come up with a pretty way to say this. I don't know if I can write or act as a sober man. I mean I am almost a year in and I recently figured out I can get through a date, and a baseball game. Who cares really, at this point I guess I would rather be a living bad writer than a dead drunk one (though my ego makes it closer than it should be).
No moments of clarity, no revelations, religious or otherwise. Someone took me into their home (I botched the terms and conditions) someone put me up in a hotel, someone took me to a homeless man's rehab. Someone even sang me a fucking song; can you believe it? Somewhere in all that madness, with the tinnitus slapping me into my bed at 4pm each day while I tried not to drink for a few minutes, while my poor dog shit the floor, I decided to live. Tentatively. Thinking it was a terrible idea the whole damn time.
The end result is if you are in a certain Exxon Mobil company town in east Texas. And you step into a certain club with a big porch at noon on a Saturday, you will likely hear the phrase "My name is Fulton, and I am an alcoholic."
The entry then
************************************************************
I hadn't forgotten love.
I was in a tight spot, damn near homeless. Buying my malt liquor at 7 A.M which was as soon as Texas blue laws would allow. My hygiene had slipped far enough the manager had stopped making a show of spraying Febreze around when I walked in to purchase my poison and sprayed it directly on my perma-stunned looking face. And I didn't have the pride to walk an extra 15 minutes to the next low grade Stop and Rob, with the strongest, cheapest malt liquor and the "vases" with individual roses you can smoke meth out of, and t-shirts you could wear or tie your arm off with to shoot something up.
I hadn't forgotten love.
But the people who loved me a little had gotten tired of my bullshit and wrote me off and stopped returning my attempts at communication (even the attempts made during the one to 3 hours a day I was both awake and sober) The ones who loved me a lot, well you can't expect someone to have to watch something probably a little worse than death in slow motion, every day as weeks turned to months and months turned to years.
I hadn't forgotten love.
From the classroom.
From the handshake line in a community theater.
From a soft, zaftig woman in my bed, with lips as soft as pillows.
But all of them were so damned far away from me. I had made my choice and only the worst kind of motherfucker refuses to live with their own shit decisions. No matter how much agony, no matter how expensive the deal, you made it, don't be a fucking welsher.
This is where a decent writer would come up with a pretty way to say this. I don't know if I can write or act as a sober man. I mean I am almost a year in and I recently figured out I can get through a date, and a baseball game. Who cares really, at this point I guess I would rather be a living bad writer than a dead drunk one (though my ego makes it closer than it should be).
No moments of clarity, no revelations, religious or otherwise. Someone took me into their home (I botched the terms and conditions) someone put me up in a hotel, someone took me to a homeless man's rehab. Someone even sang me a fucking song; can you believe it? Somewhere in all that madness, with the tinnitus slapping me into my bed at 4pm each day while I tried not to drink for a few minutes, while my poor dog shit the floor, I decided to live. Tentatively. Thinking it was a terrible idea the whole damn time.
The end result is if you are in a certain Exxon Mobil company town in east Texas. And you step into a certain club with a big porch at noon on a Saturday, you will likely hear the phrase "My name is Fulton, and I am an alcoholic."
no subject
Date: 2024-07-05 06:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-05 11:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-05 04:13 pm (UTC)I like your conversational tone and I think your writing works with that tone quite well.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 12:39 am (UTC)It's a hard choice. My son and my husband both deal with...with alcohol. It's a very strong habit to break.
You have, they haven't.
I hope you find peace and happiness and that, one day, dare I hope they make the choice you have to go without? It's a choice each must make for themselves.
Thank you for sharing your strength and your story.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 01:47 pm (UTC)A word of encouragement they talk about rock bottom a lot on television but rock bottom is whenever you stop digging.
I use alcoholics anonymous... And I attend probably 7 meetings weekly but that is by no means necessary to recover. There are cultish elements and a lot of emphasis on spirituality, though not necessarily religion. You can emphasize the elements that resonate with you, no one gets it perfect.The benefits of free therapy with people who actually understand are HUGE.
I am seeing people have success with the drug called Naltrexone. Some even just get fed up one day and stop.
Chances are low that they're going to do anything about their drinking for you or for anyone else, my personal experience is that have to want it and have to give up on the idea that they will one day drink like a normal person again... But you don't have to lead with that.
For me the pleasure of alcohol had sort of gone away so that made it easier it was more something I had to do than something thrilling. Unfortunately by the time one gets to that point their body has suffered a lot as mine has.
Different meetings have a different vibe even in the exact same AA club. If someone tries a few I feel like there's a good chance they'll find one that is at least of some use to them.
Anyway I have no idea this is something anyone's interested in pursuing that please feel free to inbox me if you think I might be able to help somehow.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:13 pm (UTC)A Russian lady ultrasounded my liver. When a Russian tells you that you are drinking too much, one must listen
/end terrible cultural stereotype
no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 01:37 am (UTC)Dan
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 03:44 am (UTC)This is raw, but in a good way. I would say you can definitely write as a sober man. ♥
One of my friends used to say, we don't wake up one day and decide, "this is it, I'm going to stick the landing, I'm not going to die", but we choose moment by moment, and it's that cascade of choices that makes it work.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 09:08 am (UTC)I'm also glad you're still here and kicking it, being sober for a year is such an achievement and you should be so proud of this.
I love the raw and honest tone in this and the use of language felt almost like it had a musical bent to it.
So looking forward to the rest of your entries <3
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 08:57 pm (UTC)Don't get me wrong; there's still bleakness here. But there is also hope, which was hard to find in some of your previous work for Idol. The blending of these two makes for some very interesting reading and I'm doubly interested to see how much more will begin to bleed through as you continue your journey.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 02:40 am (UTC)Thank you for sharing your writing with us.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 05:59 am (UTC)I don't know if you'll remember me from Idol over on LJ, but over there I entered as comedychick. I do remember you under the other username.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-09 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 01:35 pm (UTC)- Liz
no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-09 08:02 pm (UTC)So far I am doing well, I think the odds are still against me, but after a year not Han Solo long.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-09 12:55 am (UTC)Congrats on a year sober!!!
no subject
Date: 2024-07-09 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-09 09:16 pm (UTC)- Erulisse (one L)
no subject
Date: 2024-07-10 12:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-07-14 09:59 pm (UTC)