I had so much fun for 31 years. I started drinking in high school and really got good at it while in college. Keg parties out in the woods with hundreds of 20 year-old kids getting blitzed. I had a wonderful ceramic bong at my apartment when I was in college. I knew a lot of the guys on the football, basketball and track teams. They came over all the time to get high. Of course, there was always beer in the fridge. Too many friends to remember them all.
Throughout my twenties I'd be at the gay bars every night. Every night. Craziness. Drinking and driving. Group sex. Marijuana. Poppers. Staying up all night and going to work on 2 or 3 hours sleep.
By my mid-thirties, I was living overseas in the UK and Africa. Different bars every night. Every night. Gay bath-houses complete with a full bar. Winding up with a guy at his place without a clue where I was when I woke up (or came to). Often on the wrong side of town. Where'd my money go? How did my cigarette pack get bent in half? Why are my clothes so dirty?
By the time I was in my late forties, beer all day, rum & coke at night. All my gay friends are dead from HIV/AIDS. Now I'm pretty much just hanging out at straight bars. Just to drink and be around other hard drinkers. Not many friends. Well, they were friends when I had dope to smoke. No driving after 9am or 10am because I can't drink and drive any more. If I needed to drive anywhere today, better do it before noon. So I moved a block from my favorite bar. Then I bought my favorite bar.
Forty nine years old. The world is against me. No one understands me. Why does all this shit have to happen to me? I don't deserve this. Why won't anybody talk to me?
Is this a progressive disease? I think so.
1 comment:
Oh, babe. Reading that was difficult. Sending you a big hug and some support from the 415... xoxo
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