I’ve lost 15 pounds. I stood on the scale and was shocked at
the response. Then I think about the last few weeks: my girlfriend dumped me, I
lost my job, as well as my major source of income. I shouldn’t be shocked at my
change in weight considering my beer prohibition and my lack of appetite. Don’t
get me wrong, I haven’t stopped drinking, I put away a 5th of vodka like
people drink coffee. Wow, am I really writing a country western song right now?
My life has become ground hog day. I wake up; grab a 16 ounce beer to chase the
leftover vodka from the night before. Finish beer and vodka, go to store and
buy another 16 ounce beer and 5th of vodka. Return home put the beer
in the fridge and proceed to put in work on the vodka. At this point it’s 10:30
am. When I drink vodka, I don’t sip it, mix it, or put it on the rocks… I shoot
that shit like a freshman in high school, no chaser, except I don’t puke it up
afterwards (that would be a waste of perfectly good vodka). I watch
Californication and chain smoke and think about ending it all, then I look at
Rufus. Rufus is my dog. It’s time to take him out so he can do his thing. We
return, I feed him and then I get back to my path of destruction. At some point
during my drinking and self-loathing I go to check the mail to see if the VA
has finally delivered the check I so desperately need. When I discover it is
not there I return to my brain numbing in hopes it will kill me sooner than later.
Sometimes I remember to take my medication, I’m supposed to take my meds with
food, but I don’t eat so I often forget to take them. At around 1 or 2 in the
morning I start to fade out. I look at the bottle of vodka to make sure there
is enough for the morning to accompany my 16 ouncer. I pass out…
Pieces and Creases
TBN
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