I don’t care how close we are, what state of mind you’re in, or how emotional you are at the time; don’t ever come to my house and disrespect my family in front of me.
If you get to a point where you can’t even remember what you did after a night and day of drinking, then maybe it’s time you stop drinking.
I am so sick of people blaming their actions and behaviour on alcohol, thinking they’re excused for what they did. It’s fucking bullshit. People forgive, but they never forget. The fights, the arguments, the hostility towards those who care most. In this day and age, people don’t even drink to have a good time anymore; they either drink to forget their problems, drink to start fights, or drink to express how they really feel.
The reason I’m even writing this is because I’ve been giving this person so many free passes and I think I’ve finally run out.
I’ve had my share of ugly mornings, but not once, have I ever woken up and forgotten what happened the night before. The blurry tears, the crazy rants, the pointless fights, the heated debates, the sad walkabouts, the angry sex – everything. I think you get to a point where you just know your limits, know what you can handle and what you can’t, know what your body can take and how much – you just know. Unfortunately for some, they don’t know when, or even care enough, to stop. And it’s dangerous. So many people blame alcohol for breaking up their relationships, or getting them into shit, but that’s not where the problem lies. The problem starts and ends with the person consuming it.
The fact that this person I’m upset with, is going to come over during the week, and tell me only what he recalls, is fucked up. And not because this isn’t the first time, not because I’m sick of hearing his confused apologies, but because I will never forget the hate I saw in his eyes and the way he disrespected my family in our own house.
What the fuck am I going to do? He’s my best friend.
I remember my drunk dreams more vividly than my sober ones.
So last night (or early this morning), I dreamt there was a man in a black suit, standing in the middle of nowhere. And anybody that would walk up to him, would be “saved” by a single touch. So I thought, oh cool, I’ll give it a try. As I walked up to him, he put his hands down and said, “No. Not you.” I was like, “What the fuck, are you serious?” He said I couldn’t be saved because I had to make up for all the shit that I’d done in my life. I said, “Okay. I can do that.” Then the motherfucker says to me, “You only have two hours.” I nearly cried. I was so close to saying, “Fuck it, take me now!”, because I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to right every one of my wrongs in two fucking hours. It felt so real. I could even feel the last breath of death crawling under my skin.
One month and a week since I last drank. And when I drink – I fucking drink. I find it so backwards, how the things that can actually (and legally) kill us, is sold to us in fine packaging. YET, the one thing that can actually cure sicknesses and emotional issues, has a fucking price on it. And a big one at that.
If weed was legalised, and treated as a fucking medicine, then maybe, just MAYBE, pigs would be out there arresting and charging the real criminals. To give a person 25 to life, just for possession of marijuana, is fucking ridiculous. Like, when have you ever sat down next to a stoner and felt some type of hostility towards you? … NEVER. Unless, they lost a whole bag of weed. But other than that – Are they out here killing people? Are they out here robbing people? Are they out here raping people? Nope.
In every movie, you’ll see the stoner character, played out as a ditsy cunt. Which I find discriminating as fuck. Of all the stoners I’ve met in my life, there has only been ONE dumb motherfucker that I have ever met. And the only reason I haven’t punched him in the face yet is because he’s my cousins partner.
Moral of the fucking story is, I’ve learnt more shit off stoners than I ever did in school.
I have no problem with thieves and cheats. It’s liars that I can’t fucking stand. Steal from me? I can have it replaced. Play me? I can play you right the fuck back. I really can’t think of anything more annoying than a fucking liar. And now I’m starting to understand why bitches go crazy after their men lie to them. It’s like, you KNOW what you know, and all you want is for somebody to fucking admit it.
I have friends that steal, but they never hide their intentions. I have family that are sluts, but they never deny who they slept with. And then I have lying ass people that just happen to be related to me, and it’s really fucking with my mental.
Seriously, how hard is it to tell the truth?
When you become a parent, it isn’t the pretty picture that people paint in movies. Unicorns and fairies and rainbow sprinkles. It’s really fucking hard.
It’s hard watching your child see other children get what they want at the sound of a tantrum. It’s hard telling your child “next time” when they point at something while out shopping. It’s hard trying to raise your child with a sense of MONEY ISN’T EVERYTHING when todays society is built on material things.
This is what gets me out of bed every morning – the yearning for a better place to raise my child. A place where she isn’t influenced by the things that don’t matter. A place where I can teach her (without the disruption or interference of others) that in life, being happy is more important than having everything.
You ever have those moments when you don’t realize you’ve made a mistake until it’s too late to turn back? They’ve already met your family. They’ve established a connection with the people closest to you. BUT in your heart and in your mind, you know that this person needs professional and psychological help. What do you do? Knowing that you have your own problems and issues to deal with. Do you keep pretending to care about this person, all the while, being untrue to yourself? Or do you tell him/her that you don’t want to be there for them, knowing it will kill them because they don’t have anybody else?