All I ever do is bitch about the negative things in my life on this blog, huh? Well I kinda do. This is more my super secret hideout for when I feel so bad I am not sure what to do, so I write. I want to let my few readers know that I do have another blog that is kept much more current and is a little less emo. It is called Two Queer Hippies. I am not just a pile of mushy emotional crap, I actually do things too!
Also, after my super emotional weekend, I realized that I have hit my rock bottom with her drinking and I am now, at the insistance of my friends and therapist, going to Al-Anon. I chose to go. I do not feel forced and, boy, after my first meeting, I felt better. Even though it seems like I am all alone in this, even after I hear others stories, I for sure know I am not now. I know that it is ok and good to love her, I just need to find a different way to show her. She is my soulmate. For better of for worse, that's what I am signed on for. I just hope she still feels the same way.
I am going on a solo roadtrip to Alaska, starting tomorrow afternoon. I will try to be updating as I go. Some of the posts may be the same on both blogs, but you know there will be emo stuff on here. Haha. Akthough the roadtrip portion is solo, I am meeting her up there. She is also taking a roadtrip of sorts, She is doing a motorcycle endurance race called Hoka Hey. Seven thousand miles on a Sportster! She's crazy and I love her. I haven't told her that I am going to Al-Anon. I plan to tell her on this trip. I am pretty sure she will support me, since she doesn't dispute having a problem.
Viva Alaska!
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
A Letter To All Bar Owners and Bartenders
To All of You:
You dispense a killer liquid. If it doesn't take the body off this earth, which eventually it does, it takes the mind. It takes families and breaks them, shatters them, ruins them. And I am not so naive to think that it's you. I am fully aware of the responsibility of the drinker themselves. They ask for it. But in some ways then, doesn't the drunk girl at the frat party when she acts promiscuously and gets raped? Neither is informed coherent consent. Both are taking from the body and the soul and the mind. One is a blatant violation, the other is also a violation, but one we as a society believe can be chosen by the drinker.
We want all these freedoms to choose for ourselves what is good for us and what is not. I am not even sure what I am trying to say. I am angry. I am angry that you keep serving after a person has clearly had enough. I am angry that you ignore the part after they leave your bar. I am angry about how many people I see driving away after having asked for and been served way too many. All in the name of what? Freedom to choose? Sustaining a business? Greed? Ignorance? Why do you keep doing it?
My life is being destroyed. The woman I love can't stop. You have the power to tell her no. It may not be her choice. She may be mad at you. It may not even save us. But it could save her. A person you call your friend. Please. And don't worry, I have also spoken to her. I have asked her to stop, but she can't. It's this driving force. It's this demon. It's this fear that you won't all love her if you don't have that liquid toxin in common.
From the outside I can see that you won't remain friends when she stops ingesting your poison, but I don't tell her that. I don't tell her that in the end, it will be her eyes opening to the fact that she really has nothing in common with those who see no other way. Right now, I don't even tell her that if her eyes don't open soon, she will lose us. And we will lose her, more. We have already lost whole parts of her. So how about helping me? How about helping all of us? You could have a clear conscience and fall asleep right away, knowing that your "friends" made it home safe. You can know one family survived. One family is thriving. One family is pushing through recovery. Because we are a strong family, but right now we are on our knees, even the little ones, trying desperately to hold onto what we know we had, but can hardly remember.
I know you are not a cold person. I know that the demon is in the drink. I know that she chooses it, she chooses you. I know that she alone can make the decision to quit. She did last night, at the lowest I have ever seen her. Which, by the way, was very low. I have also made the decision to not enable her anymore. The only things I did last night for her were to drive her home, get her water and get her a pan to puke in. I watched her puke. I watched her pass out on the bathroom floor. I watched her struggle to get her shoes off. I watched her pass out on the ground. I watched her struggle to get to bed. I watched her pass out again in her clothes on the bed. I watched her to make sure she was breathing. I watched her dream and have nightmares. I watched her all night long, knowing the person I love is in the empty shell on our bed. This is what you close your eyes to, what you can never possibly see.
I ask of you to please consider the people who are at home, suffering. Please read my words and ask yourself why you are in an industry that destroys lives? It affects all lives. In an instant of distraction after a night at your establishment, a life could be changed, lost, altered. Even if that person is not possessed like my love is. Then ask yourself why we are like this? What is it, as a whole, that we are running from? And is harboring the runners the only stance you can take? Are you a runner?
Yours, in complete disbelief my life has brought me here,
J
You dispense a killer liquid. If it doesn't take the body off this earth, which eventually it does, it takes the mind. It takes families and breaks them, shatters them, ruins them. And I am not so naive to think that it's you. I am fully aware of the responsibility of the drinker themselves. They ask for it. But in some ways then, doesn't the drunk girl at the frat party when she acts promiscuously and gets raped? Neither is informed coherent consent. Both are taking from the body and the soul and the mind. One is a blatant violation, the other is also a violation, but one we as a society believe can be chosen by the drinker.
We want all these freedoms to choose for ourselves what is good for us and what is not. I am not even sure what I am trying to say. I am angry. I am angry that you keep serving after a person has clearly had enough. I am angry that you ignore the part after they leave your bar. I am angry about how many people I see driving away after having asked for and been served way too many. All in the name of what? Freedom to choose? Sustaining a business? Greed? Ignorance? Why do you keep doing it?
My life is being destroyed. The woman I love can't stop. You have the power to tell her no. It may not be her choice. She may be mad at you. It may not even save us. But it could save her. A person you call your friend. Please. And don't worry, I have also spoken to her. I have asked her to stop, but she can't. It's this driving force. It's this demon. It's this fear that you won't all love her if you don't have that liquid toxin in common.
From the outside I can see that you won't remain friends when she stops ingesting your poison, but I don't tell her that. I don't tell her that in the end, it will be her eyes opening to the fact that she really has nothing in common with those who see no other way. Right now, I don't even tell her that if her eyes don't open soon, she will lose us. And we will lose her, more. We have already lost whole parts of her. So how about helping me? How about helping all of us? You could have a clear conscience and fall asleep right away, knowing that your "friends" made it home safe. You can know one family survived. One family is thriving. One family is pushing through recovery. Because we are a strong family, but right now we are on our knees, even the little ones, trying desperately to hold onto what we know we had, but can hardly remember.
I know you are not a cold person. I know that the demon is in the drink. I know that she chooses it, she chooses you. I know that she alone can make the decision to quit. She did last night, at the lowest I have ever seen her. Which, by the way, was very low. I have also made the decision to not enable her anymore. The only things I did last night for her were to drive her home, get her water and get her a pan to puke in. I watched her puke. I watched her pass out on the bathroom floor. I watched her struggle to get her shoes off. I watched her pass out on the ground. I watched her struggle to get to bed. I watched her pass out again in her clothes on the bed. I watched her to make sure she was breathing. I watched her dream and have nightmares. I watched her all night long, knowing the person I love is in the empty shell on our bed. This is what you close your eyes to, what you can never possibly see.
I ask of you to please consider the people who are at home, suffering. Please read my words and ask yourself why you are in an industry that destroys lives? It affects all lives. In an instant of distraction after a night at your establishment, a life could be changed, lost, altered. Even if that person is not possessed like my love is. Then ask yourself why we are like this? What is it, as a whole, that we are running from? And is harboring the runners the only stance you can take? Are you a runner?
Yours, in complete disbelief my life has brought me here,
J
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