Substance and Grief

People. 

Just people. 

Typically after my 10:00 shifts, I go to Old Chicago for a beer or two and their happy hour. On a whim I asked a co-worker to join me. Then another co-worker invited us to his new place to drink and get stoned.

Not too hard to figure out where I went.

The co-worker who had invited us over said something intriguing though. He’d rather be drunk or stoned than sober. Sober wasn’t fun to him. It was too dull. 

He isn’t the first person I’ve encountered like this. Hell, I could be like that too had my life been just a little different. My life could still end up like that. I don’t know. 

But substance abuse is incredibly real. It’s real because reality ceases to exist. 

I was really scared to tell Calvin though what I did last night. I don’t think he took it too well either when I told him. Getting drunk is one thing to him I think. Me being stoned though hits him differently. I think it makes him more uncomfortable. 

I wonder if he’ll ever tell me what he thinks though.

That’s pretty important, I think. Especially if it really bothers him. I’d be willing to give it up for him. It’s not like I do it often. It’d be very easy to give up and I know I’d still enjoy life very much without it. 

But still, I don’t want to ask him if it bothers him. I understand being afraid to talk to someone about something of this nature especially when it’s only “negative” feedback. To me, though, I appreciate someone having the balls to confront me. That earns respect in my book. It makes me accountable for my actions and more importantly how my actions affect others.

Sorry, I’m really jumping all over the place right now because my brain can’t focus on one thing.

Another one of my friends just broke up with her boyfriend. I tried to comfort her. She says I helped eons. I looked back at my text messages. The usual, he’s an ass, doesn’t deserve you, you can do so much better, etc., etc., which is all true of course! But another thought: it doesn’t change that he hurt you and you’re hurting and that it happened. I’ll still try to be the best friend I can be, but it also makes me feel like I’m cheating you out of something. Does that make sense?

Grief happens. It happens in all sorts of forms and variations. Loss of a pet, loss of a significant other, loss of a particularly fond item, loss of a family member… loss in all sorts of forms. Death, moving, change in personality, lack of time… life progresses in such strange ways.

I guess part of me understands substance abuse more than I let on.

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