Funny Shit

[mustynutz]

Seth asked my wife how I was when he seen her at work Monday morning.

That let her know that I was definitely on the horse again.

Listen to me. You have to understand something about my wife. She was completely innocent when I met her. So up until I went to the nuthouse she had no idea that I even had a drug problem. I could come home with my eyes dilated completely black, wearing long sleeve shirts in the summertime, dose up downstairs and nod the rest of the night and she wouldn't know what was up.

She grew up in a small city that had very little crime or drugs. Her family had nothing more than a few too many at a wedding reception once in awhile. Whereas I grew up in southern California pinching my brothers bag and drinking booze by the time I was nine.

She did everything right whereas I did everything wrong.

When I was starting fires, shoplifting, and getting expelled from elementary schools> she was being a regular little girl, playing with dolls, skipping rope and drawing on sidewalks with chalk.

When I was serving time in the California youth authority> she was in ninth grade playing volley ball for the school and earning straight A's.

When I was marrying some evil bitch in Las Vegas for all the wrong reasons> she was graduating High school as valedictorian of her class and earning an academic scholarship.

When I met her as a young man in my early twenties my initial intention was to use her to get myself out of a bad situation. She was a college graduate with a good career and I was broke. I had just been evicted from my apartment my van was seized by the police because it was a stolen vehicle. I had numerous bench warrants for my arrest and a lot of other bad shit was coming at me from all sides.

But I gotta tell you the truth, after just a few times dating her as a friend I fell in love with her. There was no way I could use her and throw her away when I was done as I intended. I had been married before and had lots of girlfriends but I was never in love with anyone, until her.

She gave me hope and strength that I could overcome everything crushing against me. I wanted to change and be the kind of man that she deserved. It may sound silly but I wanted her to be proud of me.

I cant begin to describe to you what this girl meant to me she was my angel. For crissakes I didn't even try to sleep with her while we were first dating. Not that I didn't want to but I didn't want to do anything that she would regret after we parted ways. I wanted to enjoy her while I had her and leave her the same as I found her for someone that could offer her the things she deserved in life, the things I could not offer her.



She accepted me as I was. Initially her intentions were to dabble with fire a little bit. I was a strong well built good looking blue eyed blonde haired Southern California boy with a wild side. That was very attractive to a sheltered East coast girl. It is a fact: good girls like bad boys.


However, as the weeks went on she began to fall in love with me too. And that scared me. Her love didn't scare me what scared me was that if I accepted her love and pursued a relationship with her I would certainly drag her down into the muck with me.

I made a hard decision one night. I made up my mind that I was going to break it off with her before our feelings for each other went any further. I decided that sooner was better than later so the next night as we were driving to a club I began to tell her that I didn't want to see her anymore.

"Listen Cathy, it has been a lot of fun the past couple of weeks but I don't think we should see each other anymore. I really like you but I have some things I need to work out on my own and seeing you is interfering with that"

"WHAT!? What is so important that you wont have any time to see me? That doesn't make any sense"


We went back and forth for awhile. I told her all kinds of lies to try and make her hate me and want to break up with me including that I was seeing someone else, but she wasn't having it. She knew I was lying. I didn't want to but she finally ground me down to admitting the real reason why.

"Ok look, you are too good for me. You deserve a better man than me. I care about you too much to drag you down with me. If you keep seeing me your life will eventually get as fucked up as mine and I don't want to be responsible for that. There is nothing you can say that is going to change my mind so just accept it, it is the best thing, believe me."

I asked her to pull over. I got out of her car fast and stood up so she wouldn't see the tears that were purging from my eyes. I was pissed. I was pissed that she was making this harder on me than it already was. I was pissed that I was such a fuck up. I was pissed that I had fell in love with her.

I wiped my eyes , closed the car door then leaned in and said "good bye Cathy"

 

[mustynutz]

She would not leave me on the side of the road. She kept rolling along side of me while I walked and ordering me into the car. I eventually realized that she was adamant about this plus I was thinking that I must look like some spoiled bitch so I reluctantly got in her car.


She saved me that night. And that was just the first time.




When I accepted that she loved me I felt strong, strong enough to conquer all the problems that I had brought on myself. I wore her love like it was my armor.


A good woman can cause a bad man to change.


I gave up the night life and settled down. Not completely but I was not running wild anymore. I buckled down, worked full time and we rented an apartment and lived together for near two years before she became my bride.


It took years to right my wrongs. Hell I wasn't able to be issued a drivers license until I was 27.


She gave me Two beautiful children and accepted my daughter from my first marriage and supported me in my efforts to build a relationship with her.


Let me tell you something, this is truth if you are willing to consider it: the best thing a man can do is be a good husband and father. That is the pinnacle of success.


Right before my son was born we bought a home and were living a relatively normal life. I say relatively because I am not going to tell you that I was Ward Cleaver. I had my share of legal problems that usually stemmed from my propensity to party way too hard. I never wanted the night to end.


I had no family on the east coast and her family accepted me as a brother. Our life together was awesome. I never had a drug problem, well I was never addicted to anything. I steered clear of hard drugs I drank and smoked weed with an occasional trip now and then. But that was it.



I became a junkie on accident. I hurt my back and I was given pain medication. My back never got any better in fact it is still thrashed so I was on pain meds regularly.


And the problem with opiates is that your body becomes immune to their effect and the dose is constantly increased.


Let me clarify, it was an accident but I was not totally innocent. I liked the effect and I abused the drugs from the beginning. After about a year I knew I had a problem but I did nothing about it well except for engage doctors other than my regular doctor to write for me.


That's how I got into the life.


Dope eats your ambition so I had no desire to further my career. I just dropped out.

I never wanted to deal drugs. But I had to for the money. I didn't need to deal to support my habit believe me when I tell you that anyone who can talk well can get anything they want from doctors. I had three doctors writing for me.


I think I could have cleaned up from percocet and vicodin if I would have gave myself the opportunity but when hillbilly heroin exploded I had no chance. That drug is better than heroin. And just as addictive if not more.



While I was making runs to the city for spook I found the best areas to buy coffins. Coffins are little clear plastic containers used for packaging and selling top quality sensimiliia..

I would buy a bunch of them and bring them home for some friends that did not have the time to go to the city for this primo hydro. This shit was so sweet.

One of these friends was George, a French Canadian guy in his late forties who spent ten years in Graterford for Grand theft and a bunch of other charges George was a safe peeler.

Safe peeling for those of you who do not know is the lost art of prying the steel layers of a safe and spreading the layers open with chisels and mash hammers in order to allow you enough room to remove the items from the safe.

This is not an activity that can be conducted on site which means you have to take the fucking safe with you. Needless to say this requires someone with brute strength not just for carrying the safe but peeling a safe takes unbelievable upper body strength and George had it. He wasn't an enormous man but he was built like a tank. The guy wore a size 50 coat and he was only about 5'8"-175lbs.

George turned his back on his past when he was released from the penitentiary and never committed another crime. I respected George. He was and still is one of my closest friends.


His past however came back to haunt him. His son Joey was fascinated by his fathers past and the reputation he had with the wrong people. Joey was drawn in by these people who glorified his dads past. And as much as George tried to teach him that kind of life is nowhere the truth is when you're hardheaded and 18 you have to learn for yourself.

Unfortunately Joey pulled me into his mess when things got out of control.

When Joey called me early that morning I had no idea what I was about to encounter.


to be continued

 

[mustynutz]

For a while now I have had a theory that doing hardcore drugs is a good idea. For the sake of this argument I will use heroin as an example, since it qualifies as a hardcore drug and is probably the best drug to do. Anyway, whenever you make a decision, you should weigh the positive and negative consequences, and make your choice accordingly. Now, we all know that doing heroin is detrimental to your health and social life. But what all of us non-users aren't taking into account is the sheer volume of extreme pleasure that you get from heroin. I've never done heroin, so I don't know how good it is, but in Trainspotting it was described as "Take the best orgasm you've ever had, multiply it by a thousand, and you're still nowhere near it..." John Belushi said doing heroin was like kissing god. Other heroin users said that these analogies are pretty dead on. Now this sounds like a pretty good advertisement for dope.

Most people think of drug abusers as pathetic losers. But maybe we are the pathetic losers. Just think of what life would be like if you were perfectly straight edged, never took any risks, and never even had sex or masturbated (blasphemy!). It would suck balls. Of course you are taking a risk by having sex. You are risking unwanted pregnancy, a plethora of std's and all sorts of shit that goes along with sexual relationships. Yet none of us would dare give up sex. And they say heroin is not even comparable to your BEST orgasm x 1000. Most of us would agree that the ratio of good/bad consequences for sex is positive, thus we nail anything that moves. Lets analyze the ratio for heroin. For this we will have to stipulate that heroin is at least 1000 times better than sex. So if the negative consequences of heroin were less than 1000 times worse than from sex, heroin is a better mathematical decision than sex. I move that (the bad that comes from heroin) is less than (the bad that comes from sex X 1000). And it probably is. This means that doing heroin is mathematically a better move than having sex, on a risk/reward basis. Basically, doing heroin has a very high expected value.

This theory has not been tested, and that's the only problem. I was thinking about doing heroin, but I have a much better idea. YOU do heroin, and give me a cost analysis.

I wouldn't dare ask anybody who is actually productive and contributing positively to society to participate as a guinea pig in this little experiment of mine. But lets face it, you're probably not the least bit productive.

If you fit at least 2 of these criterion, you should try heroin.




OK FUCKERS HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH YET.....lol....enjoy the stories

 

[mustynutz]

Its Saturday night and I have nowhere to go...and that is a very good thing.

I am going to write a little then have dinner with my wife and son and daughter. I rented a couple of sundance films so we will watch those and throw popcorn at each other for fun. After I will probably check and see what kind of responses this gets, then hit the scratcher.

That probably sounds pretty tame for a Saturday night to most of you, and it is. But I have had enough Saturday nights. I lived a perpetual Saturday night for a lot of years and I gotta tell you hanging out with my family and going to bed at 11pm may not be exciting, but it is more fulfilling than the most decadent night of partying you can imagine. For me anyway.


The nuthouse didn't work. In fact three trips to rehab and the nuthouse didn't work.

I had submitted to the fact that I was a hopeless junkie.


The pharmacist who filled prescriptions for narcotics like they were orders of McDonald's french fries started filling again while under indictment. Tommy got out of jail on bail. Wayne visited all Tommy's Friends and "encouraged them to donate towards Tommy's bail.

So it was on again.

In my mind I truly wanted to get clean and free myself from drugs but my body would not allow that to happen. I was quite pitiful. I was ashamed that I did not have the strength within me to overcome my addiction.

When me and Tommy started making the rounds again I ran into a guy who was in the nuthouse with me. Frank had a worse habit than mine. He would put the oxy's in his mouth until the coating was worn off then cook them and shoot it up. He would miss his veins often which resulted in big infected abscesses that would have to pe lanced to relieve the puss from the infection. Ain't drugs cool kids?

Needless to say, Frank was a good customer.

While he was in the nuthouse, I think Frank must have tagged every heina on the ward. I know this because we shared the same room along with a homosexual speed freak with aids, and a deranged black crack addict who had to be restrained with straps about every other day.
The crack addict once said in group shortly after I was committed: "I cant get away from it. Everywhere I turn there is crack. At home, at work, at the clubs, my friends, my brother, crack, crack, crackity, crackity, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, cracker, crackity, crack, crack, crack."

I was laughing like hell. No one else was because apparently it is inappropriate to laugh at someone while they are sharing in group.
TBC




Mike Ness- dope fiend blues.

In a police car i feel so very small
I see my lover's face and i watch her teardrops fall
And i try to figure out where i'd fallen off the track
I sold my soul to the devil and then i stole it back
Chorus
And in the end, you know a dope fiend ain't got no friends
And a junkie is a junkie to the bitter end
Hope to die now, cuz you know i'm better off dead
Hey brother, won't you lend me a helpin' hand?

I tie myself off, shoot it in my veins
I feel like marlon brando and i've hid another day's pain
I'm goin' back where it's safe, goin' back to the womb
I find my mother's comfort, here in a needle and spoon

Chorus
And christmas for a dope fiend ain't no fun
Waitin' for good times that seem to never come
Goin' out now, gonna get myself a gun
Please stop me, don't you know i'm on a run?

Aren't you tired of the detox and the places in the mind?
Aren't you tired of the misery, aren't you tired of doin' time?
And i try to figure out where i'd fallen off the track
You know i sold my soul to the devil and then i stole it back

Chorus
I'm a dope fiend, i'm a liar, a cheat and a thief
At my funeral, won't you bring me a red rose wreath?
Dress in black now, show everyone your grief
Well, i'm gone now, you can all feel relief!

 

[mustynutz]

If you have never been committed to a mental institution... well people, you don't know what you're missing. Ask insanethemind he can put you in the know.

For me, being committed wasn't forced on me there were no burly men in white uniforms hog tying me to a gurney and putting me in the back of a van I caused it. Intentionally. I had to.

I have to stop here and let you know before you read further that the following account has a positive ending. however, after close to 4 years of being drug free, recently I have replaced dope with booze. I am a success at recovery from drugs which is rare especially when the drugs are opiates. I may not be snorting and chewing oxy contins and sticking my arms with syringes full of heroin but I am drinking a pint of whiskey on ice after work. I am losing.




If there ever was a junkies paradise I lived within its borders for a short time. I had access to milk crates full of 500 count bottles of oxy contins. Obscene amounts of money flowed through my hands. If I felt like blowing 3 or 4k on coke in one night I could make it happen. I partied in hotels for weeks at a time that offered 24 hour room service and bidet's to wash it all away. With drugs and money comes lots of beautiful women, But I did not succumb to those particular availabilities. I remained devoted to my wife throughout my wicked ways. I love her .


But all good things come to an end.

The following is a partial list of how things went wrong fast.

The pharmacist got indicted on several counts one being a hybrid murder charge because some junkie overdosed on the dope he was selling him.

My "doctor" got scared because I was shaking down the pharmacist while he was vulnerable and the pharmacist told him about my extortion attempts. He would not write me anymore scripts.

Tommy went to jail for extortion.

Wayne disappeared into ghetto New Jersey.

The pharmacists dope and my shotgun protection services I provided to Tommy were my only source of income.

Anne was dead and her brother moved to Portland.

I was forced to buy 40 mg Oxy's on the street for $20 bucks per pill. My habit was up to 10 40mg oxy's per day just to prevent myself from getting dopesick. When I couldn't find oxy's I was forced to take runs to the Philly badlands for heroin. Ask rizzo about the badlands.


So I went through several different rehabs. They didn't take. In fact I would smuggle in dope to get me through the cold turkey withdrawal programs they offered.

I deteriorated to the point of getting myself committed as a last resort to get clean from drugs. One method of having our insurance pay for a trip to the nut house was to claim I was suicidal so I had my wife drive ne to the hospital one night and I told them I was sucking on my revolver. That earned me an all expense paid trip to the nut house.

The people and the bizarre situations that I encountered during my commitment are the things that butter cream birthday cake dreams are made of.

 

[mustynutz]

Continuance of the Joey Story....So he shows up


Joey shows up at my house after calling that morning asking if I would help him with something.

I tell him sure, come on over.

He rolls into my driveway with a big white appliance of some kind sticking out of his trunk. And his car totally fucking smashed in on both sides, front and back. It looked as if he had been in a demolition derby.


"Holy hell Joey what happened?"


He is white as a ghost. And has a panicked look on his face and an even more panicked inflection to his voice.

"Uncle B, open your other garage door I need to pull this in there!"

"Alright Joey keep your britches on! I have to pull the tractor out first"

He almost clipped me pulling in as I was backing out. He jumped from the car and hit the close button. I noticed when he whipped by me that what I thought was an appliance, looked very odd. I walked into the garage and he immediately started babbling.


"Shut the fuck up Joey! Just shut up for a minute"


I went to the back of the car and the item was definitely not a washing machine. It was a safe.

It was painted after it was put in the trunk. There was white paint around the perimeter of the safe as it laid in the trunk, and the area not seen from the outside was not even painted.


"Talk Joey. and don't lie to me. Choose your words carefully, im warning you if you lie to me im not going to help you I will turn you out if you lie to me"




This is what he told me:

He and three other knuckleheads boosted the safe from a salvage yard office in Allentown 2 weeks earlier. They had been trying to open it ever since. He said that he tried peeling it like his old man used to but he made no progress. So they tried pushing it off an abandoned railroad trestle over and over for several nights and again, that didn't work. Then they rented cutting torches and were able to get a decent sized hole in it. Enough of a hole that they could get their hands on the cash inside but too small to remove their hand with the cash out of the hole.

So their collaborative bright idea was to have a little kid fish the cash out>>>my kid.


"Why Ian? Michael(one of the knuckleheads) has a son, what the fuck Joey?"

"Uncle B, we talked about a lot of kids doing it but we couldn't trust any of them to keep their mouths shut. I knew if you told Ian to keep quiet he would"


"You are a fucking idiot Joey! Now what the hell happened to your car?"


'A cop bumped his siren and flashed his lights but there was no way I was going to pull over so I floored it. I guess the weight of the safe made the back end unstable and it started fishtailing and smashing cars on both sides of the street. I made a turn into a bug that was crossing the intersection he spun out and the cop smashed into him."


"Goddamnitt! You were probably followed!"


I went to the window and peered through separated blinds. There was nothing out there.


"Uncle B, I slowed down and kept heading up here and never saw another cop. I am positive I wasn't followed"


As he spoke to me I noticed something about him. .his distressed look was not just due to his current stressful situation, he was dopesick..

"How positive are you Joey? Are you as positive as I am that you are a fucking junkie?"


He didn't say anything. He started crying. Then he started bawling like a little boy.


He was only a lad, 20 years old. He was always trying to be a hard ass, but he wasn't a hard ass he was just like most 20 year olds; confused about the world, his place in it and overwhelmed by letting the boy go and becoming a man.


I couldn't help but to try and comfort him even though I was pissed off at hin for laying this jackpot on my doorstep. I walked over to him and gave him a hug. As soon as I touched him he grabbed me and nearly squeezed the air out of me bawling into my chest like a little boy.


At one point I glanced over his shoulder and saw my wife watching us through the mudroom door window. She had a look to her like: what in the hell is going on now!

Her eyes were darting back and forth between the wrecked car with the safe in the trunk and Joey who she had only met briefly who was now snubbing and sniffling into my chest.

"GET IN THE FUCKING HOUSE!"

As soon as I screamed at her I wish I could have taken it back.


I really drug that woman through a whole lot of shit. And treated her shabbily at times. She never knew what to expect from day to day. I still am amazed that she stuck it out with me.



My yelling snapped Joey to attention.


I wasn't sure what to do. I had a million things racing through my mind the foremost being that this situation would not only put me in the middle of a grand theft charge but also my wife because as far as the law sees things it is her house too and she would go down with me and Joey.




"Lets get that fucker out of the trunk"


When we had it on the floor I got my flashlight and looked inside through the jagged crudely cut hole.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I looked up at Joey and had a smile on my face from ear to ear. He just looked at me puzzled. He had no idea what he had stolen.

 

[mustynutz]

To be Continued.........hahahahahahaha

 

[VSTXDJ]

u fuckin asshole hahaha hurry up and get da pther part of da story up haha

 

[mustynutz]

What Joey thought was useless paper was actually rag paper. Normal paper used daily, like the newspaper, or the paper in books is made from trees . Paper the government uses for money is made from cotton and linen fibers. Rag paper is pressed with thousands of pounds of pressure that is what makes new cash so crisp.


And this was not just ordinary rag paper you can buy at your local staples, this was the stuff the government uses.


How and why I knew what this paper was when I peeked through the hole in that safe is inconsequential.


What was important about this paper was I was 100% sure that the theft was not reported to the police, which was a good thing. However, I was also 100% sure that the owner of this safe was actively pursuing its whereabouts, and that was a bad thing.


"Joey, I gotta call your dad. He is the only one that can open this safe without fucking up the contents"

"Please Uncle B, there has got to be another way other than letting my dad know what I did, I don't want him to know"



We wiped that car down good and waited until dark. We drove out to a stripping hole and shoved it over.



I wasn't paranoid as much about having that safe in my garage now that his car was gone. But I wasn't exactly breathing easy about it.


When George showed up I knew I had to be on my best game trying to bullshit this ex-con. George was a smart guy.


When I had met him earlier that day I thought I picked up a sign from him that he smelled something funny about my story.


I told him that me and Ironhead Timmy boosted the safe and were having a hard time getting it open. He knew I wasn't a thief but he also knew that I was a junkie and I was hoping that he would figure I had resorted to burglary like so many junkies do on their descent into addiction.


I asked Ironhead Timmy to show up for effect.


The contents of the safe yielded very little cash or items that can be easily converted to cash.

It was mostly personal papers deeds, certificates shit like that.

Really, the only thing of interest was 2 bottles of ink with a sticker indicating the paints magnetic ratio. And the rag paper.


It was evident that the guy was a small time counterfeiter. It may surprise you but there are lots of people who counterfeit and get away with it their whole lives because they don't get greedy about it. They just print enough to make their lives a little more enjoyable. The guys who get caught are the guys who churn out half a million and start floating it everywhere.


This guy probably only printed 10k in a year, enough to take his family on vacation or something like that.


There was $1800 bucks in cash that looked like the real deal. I broke it up in the thirds but George refused his cut he insisted that me and ironhead Timmy split it up.


"Lets get rid of this B, I got a place"

We shoved the safe over that damn wall where George had dumped so many other safes not to mention pay telephones, parking meters, change makers etc.



George floored me with what he said next.


"This is the last time I am bailing Joey out. And it is your last time too. From now on he will deal with the consequences of his actions. I cant trust you anymore B, you lied to me and it doesn't matter what circumstances there were that caused it, the fact remains you to lied to me and we cant be the kind of close friends that we were before this. Don't call me or come around anymore"

I thought I had pulled the wool over his eyes. Don't ever underestimate a con. Their life behind those bars is dictated by lies. Just one con knows more about lying then 100 each of politicians, lawyers and salesmen.


The next day I contacted the owner of the safe and arranged to meet him.

 

[DaytonFamily]

come on more

 

[mustynutz]

cliffhangers are a bitch aint they....keep ya eyes peeled for the continution....if i gave it all you you at once you wouldnt keep comin back for more

 

[Nonstop]

i was finna say, man we needa sit down and write a screenplay to that.. thats sumthin id actually try to make into a movie

 

[Nonstop]

that shit would be a savage ass flick tho.. some shit you could watch a grip and not get tired f it, like fight club or sumthin...

 

[SonnyBlac]

wowo this is a great read. I been readin this today. i read it 2 times cause its so damn good. Where did u get this from musty??

 

[mustynutz]

from the dark side ....

 

[SonnyBlac]

post up more mane

 

[SonnyBlac]

i want more!!!

 

[tadou]

my eyes hurt......good read though!

 

[mustynutz]

here some more for the addicts.....

Breath.


To keep Joey from getting any deeper, I met with the owner of the stolen safe at a bar in Hazleton. As long as this guy knew what had happened to the safe he would stop looking for it.

I gave him back all of his paperwork in the bar and told him the rest of what was in the safe was out in my trunk...save the $1800 bucks.

I told him the truth. A couple of stupid kids stole his safe and when they couldn't get it open they came to me. And because one of the kids was a friends son I helped them. I didn't get into details about all the bullshit I had to endure but I told him that I split the money in the safe with the guy who helped me.

"I want that money"

"Listen I understand you got ripped off but I didn't rip you off that is not my thing I am not a thief. Believe me when I tell you that I earned that money, and there is no way I am going to give it back"

"I want the fucking money or I am going to call the police!"

I slammed my phone on the table.

"Call em' motherfucker!, call em'! and I will make sure and turn over the rag paper and the magnetic ink in my trunk!"


Look, I don't care if you are printing, in fact, good for you. I brought all your papers as a gesture of good faith. There are birth certificates and deeds that I know have to be very important to you. I could have burned them, or let the knothead kids take them but I am trying to show some respect to you here.

'Respect? This is respect? Stealing from me then rubbing my nose in it? You have a strange way of showing respect! I want my money!"

"Try this: want in your right hand and shit in your left hand and see which one fills up first"



"Fuck you!"


"Alright consider me fucked. If you want your stuff lets go"

I got up to leave but he asked me to sit down.

"I am glad to get this stuff back...but $1800 bucks is not something easy to let go...and that safe cost me a grand"

"believe me, you don't want that safe. If it is any consolation to you, the kid totaled his car out because of that safe, it was a nice car too, a 72' Skylark totally restored"

He lightened up some and we started to talk some. By the end of the night we were having a good time he even invited the two ringers he had in the bar that were supposed to beat the shit out of me to the table.

Im friends with him to this day.

__________________________



On my way home from the bar that night. Driving drunk and high ...once again, I had a moment of clarity

I hated moments of clarity. I always had them when I was alone driving at night for some reason.

My clarified thoughts would always begin with me reflecting on the death of my mom, which is the worst thing that I ever experienced. When my mom died I felt robbed by god. I turned my back on the very little faith I had. And cursed god with a clinched fist.


My mom was my hero. Even though I chose the wide path more times than not, she taught me how to follow the straight and narrow if I ever chose to do so. I put forth at least an effort to be a good man out of respect for my mom and also because I could not lie or hide anything from her.


My mom could tell the signs because she went through years of my brother doing drugs so she was hep. I couldn't hide anything from my mom. I began my descent into addiction shortly after my mother died. I needed to mask that pain of her death, and my back problem was a good excuse. I didn't have to keep myself in check for her anymore.


I loved my wife but I always thought that she would turn her back on me if I fell out. I believed that no one could love me unconditionally like my mom considering my numerous shortcomings and character flaws....but I was wrong.


Pride would make me say that I overcame my addiction because I am a strong willed man. But that is a lie. Pride is what got me into most of my jackpots.

There is no stronger force on earth than the unconditional love we offer each other in this life. It is also much too rare.


I told my wife after several attempts to clean up that I was a lost cause. I was going to die a hopeless junkie. And I should have been dead along time ago. But she would not accept my fate as easily as I did.


Listen to me, love does not make you weak and vulnerable, it does quite the opposite. It would have been easy for my wife to divorce me and let me drown. But she was powerful. Stronger than me and stronger than opiates for sure she would not allow me to drown. She walked out onto the water. She laid on her belly. She reached down, found my hand and pulled me up from the reef.


She did this for me more times than I would like to admit. A strong man would have required this helping hand just once. Unfortunately I was a weak man.

 

[Dana Dane]

C'mon, musty!!!!