more mileage outta fucking up


the below is some reader input I received on my last post about the comment to fucking up.  It’s just pretty damn good.  Deserves to go here for the world to see.  names have been redacted to protect the innocent.

she’s totally right too.  called me out and saw right through the bullshit.  she’s right, I do care, and I am like a scared, spoiled little boy having a tantrum b/c I can’t get what I want.

and thinking 10 years from now?  shit, I don’t want to (or can’t) even think 10 days from now, much less 10 yrs.  I think a large part of why I don’t plan is b/c I just want to live in the now, and don’t have any expectations about the future.  mostly b/c I don’t expect to live that long in the future and/or I expect the world to end either by the 2nd coming or by some dumb shit starting WWIII.  50’s?  60’s?  maybe.  70’s and 80’s? why the hell would I want to?  arthritis, adult diapers, all the medical problems of 70 years and your body wearing out.  work for 30 yrs just to retire and have a little bit of money and your body falling apart so bad you can’t even enjoy your grandkids or any trips you’ve always wanted to take?  why the fuck…would I want…to do…that.

ya, but you’re completely missing the point dumbass. it’s not about you, you selfish prick. the point is you’re there for your kids.  for your wife.  the point is YOU’RE THERE.  to guide, to nurture.  to be there the first time they drive, or have their heart broken, or move into their first apt away from home, or any of a million different other things.  i hate you.  you’re so fucking stupid.  you don’t deserve anything you have.  I hate…you.

wow, how do I respond to that?  i got nothin.


Date: Tue, 26 Jul 2011 05:39:09 -0700
Subject: Yo!

I can have another beer according to my 365 day promise but honestly, your posts are making me think I may choose to never have one again <and THAT is why I’m doing this.  Even if it doesn’t work for me, maybe somebody will stumble across this and say to themself “hey look at this poor sod, I don’t ever want to be like that, I’m quitting NOW>. Thank you for opening up to the world <my pleasure>, it’s been helpful to me as well as you but I’m afraid it’s been more helpful to me. Your last few posts have been sad, negative and are sounding like you may be sliding back a bit <yup, and I don’t know/care why.  that old man’s a real motherfucker>.
 *********************
 <and THAT is why I’m doing this.
When you started the blog, it was to help yourself.   You couldn’t talk to <redacted>, you didn’t have a sponsor….you had to have a place to  put this stuff.
Get the focus back on YOU!!   Your life!!   Your family!!   Your kids!!!   What’s  the easiest way to avoid having to confront our own                      issues?    By putting the focus on others.    You saying “that’s why I’m doing this” is a big avoidance technique.    If others are helped by your blog, that’s great.   But the focus right now needs to be YOU!!!
Even if it doesn’t work for me
NO, NO, NO…… It WAS working for you!!   Your readers could see the change in you as the  months went by….
<yup, and I don’t know/care why………… DAMMIT!!!
Don’t let it happen!!  Don’t slide backwards, dude!!   This is breaking my heart.   It’s like watching someone self-destruct.   That is exactly what I did with my brother.    I cared….I loved him…..he didn’t care…..he didn’t love himself…..I kept putting my hand out…..he wouldn’t take my hand.
I miss him so much.   His ashes are scattered in the <redacted> River, <redacted>.  I don’t even have a place to see his name on a tombstone.   It’s like he’s just gone.
You can’t see me but I’m crying.    Crying for the senselessness of his death.   And you’re not there yet….you’re young and still healthy….But dammit I’m mentally fast-forwarding a decade.
<redacted> will be 17/18….you’ll be trying to hang on to her….she’s gonna be ready to fly the coop……<redacted> will be 14/15….he’s gonna be a big guy…..big teenager…..copping an attitude with you…..everything will be different.   They’re gonna need you.    <redacted> AND <redacted> ARE GONNA NEED YOU!!!!!    You think they need you now….and they do, they’re little….. but they’re gonna need their dad MORE in 10 years than now.
They’re gonna need their dad to be healthy and on track and together and focused on them…..they’re gonna need you and <redacted> together, a united team.   Get that monkey off your back NOW.
<redacted> was 51 when he died.   When he was 35 or 36, he was still healthy too.   Still looked good.   Still had good coloring.    His hands didn’t shake.    He could function.
NOW IS THE TIME TO GET THIS FIXED.
You gotta care.    I know you care.   I KNOW YOU CARE.    I think it’s a lie that you don’t care.   I think it’s just scary to think about never drinking again.   I think it’s scary to think about going to your hashes with your friends and they’re all drinking and you can’t.   I think it’s scary to think about getting together with your buddies for college football and they’re all drinking and you can’t.
I think it’s the little boy in you that’s pissed off that he can’t have what he wants.
I think the “I don’t know/care why” is just a tantrum.   It’s easier to say “I don’t care” than to do the work that’s necessary to finally beat this thing.
That’s my humble opinion.    You can tell me to jump in a lake.   I don’t care.   I think you were ALMOST there…but life without drinking wasn’t as fun…..
And so now you’re pulling this I don’t care bullshit.    I don’t care and I don’t know why I don’t care.    IT’S BULLSHIT!!!!!
Peace.   ~<redacted>
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~ by sobriety6923 on July 27, 2011.

One Response to “more mileage outta fucking up”

  1. Wow. I just posted about my boyfriend who killed himself drinking last winter, but not before he made a little girl so he could damage her with the slo-mo suicide, and not before doing whatever it was he did to his wife, who seems a lovely person and frighteningly strong and competent.

    She threw him out before he died; it’s a pity, too. She could’ve had anyone, from the sounds of it. Cute, strong, talented, whip-smart, great sense of humor. I was on the verge of dumping him, too, just because of the behavior, which I didn’t see as connected directly to drinking. It was a new relationship, and we hadn’t spent enough time together for me to see how serious the drinking was. Had I known, I’d have cut things off immediately. The sad thing is I’d have known that friendship wasn’t really possible, either. That it existed mainly in my own head. That would’ve been a hard one to swallow, but I’d have done it, and walked away.

    Reminds me…he was saying near the end that I was a great friend, and it kind of pissed me off, because it’s true, I am, but he hadn’t had any opportunity to see it. And I thought, Wtf, hanging around and having great sex and food and walking and talking doesn’t constitute great friendship. Friendship is when you fucking do for someone else even though it costs you big. Friendship is about back-having. I was confused about why I reacted so strongly, but I see it now: I must’ve seen something wrong, known that despite all the charm and the fatherliness-I-didn’t-ask-for and the sense that hey, here was a really wonderful person…he just wasn’t there, man.

    I stopped reading the litany you posted up there after about the first sentence, because I could see you getting off on the contrition, and I’m not into it. This blog, though, in combination with my late boyfriend and my ex-husband (who’s sent a little girl to bed crying tonight, because apparently he’s so busy hating on me (for what? God knows, could be anything) that he can’t suck it up for an hour and have dinner with the two of us on her birthday)…you know, if you’re not addicted, and not mean, and not miserable and envious, and not actually crazy, you kinda figure most other people aren’t, either. And then it turns out you go wandering around in midlife and people are all. fucked. up. In bad ways, ways where they’ll glom on and do their best to suck the life out of you.

    And you know what? I don’t want it. I don’t want any more. Yeah, it’d be great to have a wonderful husband, a great marriage, etc. But the more I read and hear, the more I see these horribly sad stories where a woman (most often) is acting her heart out, pretending to have a great marriage full of love, while the guy’s busy wrapping himself around a bottle and wouldn’t know her from a lamppost, or is just mean and bitter.

    So. Hell with it. I got a great kid, the mortgage is paid up, my right hand works, I’m good.

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