So, there are folks who think I’ve got it all together. They just assume I do because I’ve been sober 35 years and had a 27 year career in alcohol/drug treatment. And I have to say, there have been periods of time, long periods of time when I thought I had it made, when I did have it made. But, I’ve noticed one thing lately. I’ve noticed that, even though I’m not in denial about my current state of discontent, others refuse to take me seriously. I tell them I’m irritable, restless, discontent and I’m headed toward some kind of nervous breakdown. I tell them I don’t know how long I can live this way. I tell them I lie in bed and cry all night. And, when I tell them I need help, they laugh.

The women laugh and say, “You need a hug.”

The men laugh and say, “You need to get laid.” 

Lately, I agree with the men and I have been seeking a 2nd hand erotic escape via the internet but, so far, I chicken out before I take any kind of crazy, dark jump into that place. So far, I haven’t become that determined to fuck everything up….But I’m close and I’m tired of being dismissed. I’ve been around clean, sober, dry, gung ho, half-measured recovery folks ever since I was 19 years old and I’ve seen (mostly) men with decades of alcohol/drug free life blow through their serenity like it was facial tissue and flood their spiritual condition with a tsunami of discontent coming, seemingly, from nowhere though, if the experts thought to look, they would’ve been able to detect at least a richter’s worth of restlessness rippling from the sea floor of the old-timer’s fatal malady.

And, when I think about those guys with many years under their belts going off the deep end, I also think of those who scoffed when these bleeding deacons insisted something was wrong. I think about how, when their mentor’s clay feet crumbled, they were the first to proclaim, “I knew this would happen.”

All I know is I want to get right w/ man and God before I willingly throw a life’s worth of purposeful living down the drain.

All I know is I need help.


About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
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