For me, its that throw away, usable, disposable always available piece of nice looking "whatever". I thought I had learned to listen to my instincts when the "thing" happened to me a few years ago, but evidently I was wrong. Anyway, I became a throw away friend last night, a convenience... usable, disposable, a consolation prize... (btw... had nothing to do with SEX... ). Just being lied too, stood up on a meeting, having my name used to clear another's situation when I wasn't involved or around... you got it... lol... high school shytt.
Story goes like this...., "Well, you see, b, my friend, is an alcoholic with issues who needed ..." That's me. "b" is me. I am the alcoholic with issues.
Do I have issues? Fuck yeah. If it weren't for daily life just being daily life, I would have issues. Who doesn't?
Add to that being sexually sodomized and raped multiple times as a kid, raising a family- both of whom grad from college- stress...stress...stress, being the care-giver for a now deceased spouse, and being friggin sexually traumatized raped whatever again as a grown man... well, I ain't as fucked up as most people I know nor as I have the right to be. I still get up in the morning and stand tall. I may tear up a few times during the day, but I still stand tall.
Am I am alcoholic? Nope. Do I over indulge in alcoholic consumption, at times. Do I need it every day, every week, nope. Before the past winter when I began to face my pain and grief, too much. Now, not so much.
Sort of angry about it all. Not sort of, I am.
I'm just sharing this... the damn cat didn't want to listen. And my heart hurts just a tad bit.
And it prob rambled... oops. but, hey, I have issues.
For now we see through a glass, darkly.