What A Weak…..

Yeah, I still remember how to spell. Artistic license. Possibly run amok. It’s hard to say, shaking off the cobwebs from some repeated beatings. I can’t believe I am writing another semi-memorial type blog, not that long ago, I think I did this a blog or two ago. So, yesterday, decent day, not having to pretend love is an intention, and then I message one of my friends I hadn’t talked to in a while. We texted back and forth before along pause came. No big deal, she got busy…

And then my phone shook, “Marc is dead. He OD’d last night, never even got the needle out of his arm.” What the fuck? I met Marc in Maryland, as he was dating my roommate, the one who delivered the news to me. We went to the Pearl Jam concert together, a big group of us. I have this dogging thought that won’t quit…I let him snort a bag of heroin that day. He got sick. Up until this point, it was just the occasional Percocets for him. This is 1996. A lot of people get so nauseated the first time they do a powerful opiate, they never really try it again. Even someone who has done some, like a bag or 2 a day, for a while shouldn’t ever do 10-14 (I know this, I lost count though) bags in an evening. There is an irony at play, I overdosed that night for the first time.

If you have read my book you know the story. It isn’t pretty. The next day is one of 2 clean days I remember from 1995 until my first rehab in Oct of 1999. The other was Christmas Eve, 1996 as well. That night, I got sick, and it was also the first sign the claws of addiction had sunk into my flesh. I didn’t even know I was dope sick, but I learned really quick how to stop it.

It’s been one of those numb type of weeks for me. It is really hard to explain. The sting hits me, but I disconnect it way before it hits my heart. I have been doing this for a while, when it comes to other people in my life, whether distant friends, or really recent loves. It’s pretty unhealthy, and there are mornings I wake up and just can’t get my mind off my ex-wife. I get hit with an uncontrollable high tide of loneliness, the worst of all emotions in my opinion. I want to reach out and just talk to anyone, but something doesn’t let me even pick up my phone.

Little by little, I am opening my heart up to the dripping venom from the back of my mind, and while it must have looked ridiculous, me crying in my bedroom, I understand there are a lot more to come. Flip the switch, and the poison slides right on by. Maybe slowly dissolves my self-perceived protective sheath…Whatever…

When  I heard Marc passed, my face went expressionless, my mind tripped on the past for a little bit, as a way to deny the present. It likes to do that, at least the way my mind runs the thoughts. The tough guy, never let them see any weakness, don’t flinch. Get knocked down, get right back and ask insanely to do it again. I might just be crazy enough to tire you out…

Marc…none of us knew, how deep your hole was, and over the years, our personal lives steer the ship away from past friend’s ports of call. I remember Fun for All, after hours closing party, sex drugs and rock n roll…along with go carting and batting practice. Worse, he leaves behind an 8-yr-old daughter. I am pretty sure I know his inability to stay clean for her drove him over the edge. It’s why I always tell people, never get clean for anyone, or anything, other than because you love yourself, and you a grateful and excited to live life.

I tell myself this, a lot these days. And sometimes it pulls me out of the funk, other times it keeps me from sinking any further. That is a win. I found myself cursing addiction the other day as I unloaded the dishwasher. I always used to say I really felt bad for alcoholics having to see the deluge of beer and alcohol commercials, billboards, bars, etc, but dammit, how many times a day do I use a spoon? Just a little simple thing, looking at it to see if it was bent to lay flat. Flipping it over, the slightest speck of soot…

Get a shower, q-tip my ear, and now the pressure builds. Put on a belt…mother fucker. Am I going to destroy my life today? That is my question I ask, along with, am I going to prove the doubters right? Multiple motivation is key, but without me wanting to pursue life, see the simple beauty, I will not make it. I will agree with the naysayers, and apologize to the supporters. I tried, I gave up. I have listened to that song a lot. I never tried, and now that I am, there is no giving up.

It really has been a crazy week. See, told you. I haven’t talked to Marc in so many years, and will never have a chance to. Just one more angel up there to help me out, and I am good with that. Rest in Peace brother. You will be deeply missed, and already are.

“The wings of angels are often found on the backs of the least likely people.” ~Eric Honeycutt


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