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[macmcman-blog]

Sober day #72

    My sponsor told me that he kept a diary of his thoughts and feelings during his early days of sobriety. He said it helped him express himself in ways he couldn’t properly express to the world and a bunch of other ways I honestly can’t remember right now. I’m fairly certain that diary was a private log of his personal battle with staying clean and dry. I’ve decided that I’m going to keep my “diary” on here. I honestly have no clue as to why I’ve decided to do this. I actually didn’t know what Tumblr was until ten minutes ago. But, I figure what’s the worst that can happen...right? 

     Soo, yea, if you’re reading this, I must warn you that I am by no means an accomplished and or experienced author. I went to school to obtain my first really expensive piece of paper in business marketing. I then went back to school and received an equally expensive pin that shows I am a bachelor of science in nursing. My purpose for informing you of these two degrees was not to inflate my ego. Well, my purpose for informing you was not only to inflate my ego. It was meant to emphasize the point that I am not a writer. I assure you my posts will contain many spelling and grammatical errors. I’ll apologize for these mistakes now, but I should probably also inform you... I don’t really give a shit. 

     That was a perfect segue into my next point. I have a foul mouth. Just imagine a truck stop hooker was knocked up by a sailor. Then imagine the hooker and sailor split custody of the illegitimate offspring. If you’re still using your imagination you should be able to see how this child spent the first two weeks of the month around truckers and ladies of the truck stop and the last two weeks of the month around dock workers and sailors. Let’s keep that vivid imagination of yours going and say that’s how he lived until he was  put up for adoption at age twelve. This is when he was adopted by a very well known actor by the name of Samuel L. Jackson. If you can’t imagine what kind of mouth this child possesses by the time he’s 33 or you didn't understand some of the references, google ‘em up mothafucka! If you do research anything please refer to the Urban Dictionary’s definition of, “curse like a sailor.” Actually, I’ll save you the two minutes. The Urban Dictionary says I, “curse well and a lot.” It also says I’m, “cursing with a lot of exoerience.” That’s their spelling error not mine. I bet you’re looking it up now. With all of that being said, (Oh shit, wait... am I allowed to curse on here?) I will try and keep the cursing to a minimum. 

     Alright, if you’re still reading this, I’m honestly shocked. I’m also honored that you made it through my absurd intro. I’d normally blame the absurdity on a relatively heavy flow of narcotics into my brain, but I’m happy to say that pills and booze had nothing to do with it. With that being said, let’s get to the point of why I am writing these entries in the first place. If you haven’t picked up on some of the key words in my previous paragraphs or you weren’t able to deduce the reason from my clever title, I am a drug addict/alcoholic. I’d like to say I was a drug addict. However, I realize now that when people refer to addiction as a disease, a life long struggle, something that must be thought of and overcome one day at a time, they are right. So, even though I’ve gone 1,735 hours without consuming any type of mind altering substance, the sad truth is I am still an addict. Since this is my first entry and I’m really not sure how it’s going to be received by the internet, I’m going to spare you on the intimate details of my drug use for now. Let’s just say my consumption of opiates, benzodiazepines, central nervous system stimulants, ethyl alcohol and marijuana is on par with my cursing. I did them well and a lot. I was consuming with a lot of experience. 

     I think I’m done with my entry for today. I’m going to give anyone reading this another warning. I have no idea what I’m going to write about. I never would have thought my entry today would equate my use of profanity to the spawn of a truck stop hooker and sailor that was raised by Samuel L. Jackson. Especially, because it doesn’t really even make sense that a sailor would be picking up a hooker at a truck stop. Obviously, they’d just pick up women who love sea men at the dock. Sorry, I couldn’t resist that one... Anyway, as you can see I have no idea where this is going to take me. I’m just writing whatever comes to mind. I’m sure some entries are going to bore you, some entries may be tough for you to read, some of it is definitely going to be sad, some may hit close to home. Hopefully, a lot of it will be happy and up lifting. I also hope I can get some of you to smile or laugh. The only thing I do know is that if I’m writing an entry, it’s another day that I was able to abstain from getting bent, zapped, turnt up, sloshed, or faded and regardless what you think... I am so flocking grateful for that. I hope you’re eagerly awaiting my newest installment, “Sober Day #73.” I know I am!

KCCO