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Sam....

  • By girly-d
  • On 01/09/2017
  • 0 comments

My friends tell me that some of my blogs are dark and disturbing.

Good.

They need to be. Especially to anyone reading them who may be walking a similar path to the one I took before I got help. It might be just what they need to read for the penny to finally drop.

See, you can't dress up addiction. It's a fucker. It chews people up and spits out the leftovers. It doesn't give a fuck who you are, where you live or how much money you've got. It just wants you dead. End of. Thats it's job. It doesn't get bored, or tired. It's relentless. A 24/7 killing machine with quotas to fill. 

It took my friend Sam. He was buried last month.

I was holding his hand in a bar a few weeks before. I'd bought him a pint to ease his withdrawals while I sipped on my J20. 

I gave him a fiver to stop him from stealing a bottle of wine on his way home. You're not supposed to do that. "Enable" people in addiction. I knew that. Normally I wouldn't dream of it but he was my friend and he was in trouble. Physically and financially. I wasn't "enabling" him. I was showing some compassion. He said he'd pay me back. We both knew that he wouldn't. I gave it to him anyway. Thats what friends do. 

We met in detox.  We both went in there on the same day. He was bright yellow. He'd wrecked himself in two years with cheap sherry and cider. Stage 4 liver disease. As far as I know there isn't a stage 5.

We were hoping that he would get better. He didn't and he died.

He was 27.

He was so proud of me for staying sober. It's all he talked about. I'm glad of that. Glad that he saw that I'd nailed it. Because it can be done. It didn't work for him but it worked for me and whatever it is that I'm doing right I'm still doing it today. I don't know how that made him feel knowing that he was running out of time and that he couldn't undo the damage he'd done. We didn't really talk about it.

Now we'll never be able to.

I don't know what makes me different from my friends who can't stay clean and sober. I don't go to meetings or follow the twelve steps. I just know that I have this thing down. And that i'm free of it now.

Some people will call me complacent. Complacency is bad. It's what makes you think that you are "cured" and that one drink won't hurt - "For old times sake"... So no,  I'm not complacent. I know more than most people the power that this thing has and I've seen the damage it can do. It's frightening. I'm afraid of  being addicted again. That's a good thing. Thinking like that means that I won't ever allow myself to be. 

In the last 12 months I've been there, done that, got the T-shirt. It doesn't suit me anymore. It's time for a makeover...

So this one's for you Sam. It's your round next time. You can get it out of that fiver you owe me.......xx

 

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