Alcohol #4957

I could have labeled all sorts of days with a number, if i’d been with it enough, days of exposure to drunkenness not my own. Right? So say we all? (kindof? maybe not.)

Today I was supposed to have lunch with an old friend, but he was drunk, so the lunch didn’t happen. Yes, he has a problem and yes, he knows it. And yes, he lashed out at me for cancelling saying all sorts of things about what I was thinking and saying, none of which I thought or said, none.

It makes me immeasurably sad.

There are so many days, hours, moments, memories lost to alcohol, or whatever the drug is. millions of them. I feel it keenly, how many years of memories I have on my own, even though someone else was there. A nice lunch that we both miss out on because a bottle held the power. It would’ve been so nice to catch up. VERY different weights to those two examples, but still. So much lost. So much sorrow.

I’ve been realizing lately how fluid my boundaries are, around so many things. but not this. there is no way i’m wading into the mire of alcoholism ever again. but man, makes me so sad. and part of me is mad at myself, that sorrow is still my feeling… but honestly, what else is there? when someone is so determined to erase themselves. . . shame and sorrow and run run away.

I don’t even begin to understand what it is like, and I’m not naive enough to believe it some skill i have, to not be a victim to it. luck of the draw and genetics maybe, but I’m crazy lucky that it is not a problem I have.

Here’s to crazy luck. Don’t raise a glass. or do. we’re good.

love you,


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