Reviving an old Friend


So, I think next week I will take a WordPress friends advice and start an exercise program again. I used to exercise every day. Back in high school I exercised a few hours a day, every day.
But as we get older things change.
I’ve decided that the path I’m going to take is yoga. While it may to some sound lame or easy work. I did a yoga workout on the p90x and I was hurting for days. I still have that saved, so next week it’s my plan.

But I also am going to bring back another old friend, alcohol. I’ve missed my liquid friend. I never named her. Yes alcohol is a girl for me. Now I don’t mean to be an ass, it’s just part of me. I’ve always been told I was inappropriate, rude, obnoxious, chauvinistic, vain, etc. The list goes on.
The reason I call alcohol a woman, no other sex can make me feel happy. I can’t make her cry, although if I leave a beer out to long it sweats. I can’t let her down. I can have her meet my friends without them making comments.
In a bad person. I know this. I’d use my picture as my avatar if I didn’t think someone might recognize me from my past and want to kill me for the things I’ve done.

How do I stop being this person? Does more medication make me be nicer? Will it stop the snide remarks? All day at work I’ve got something mean to say. Something sexually suggestive that if said out loud would get me fired. But this is how my mind works. How do I change who I am inside? I don’t want to be this person for the rest of my life.

I’m scared I’ll end up alone. I saw the most terrifying this while I was in Walmart yesterday. Now, I know Walmart in general has a bad stigma. But what I saw made me cry for an hour on my way back to my rental.
I had gone shopping for the few items I needed. Living out of a closet I’m not eating much anymore. Anything I can grab without a stove an eat. So I was able to hit the 20 items or less line.
In front of me was that older lady. You know her. She is the one who has just Quast she needs in the cart for a few days. Along with roughly 10 cans of cat food. She is the one who holds up the line talking to the cashier because she doesn’t have any friends left. I had about half the items in my cart that she did except the cat food. She’s the crazy cat lady.


I don’t want to become this person. So how do I stop it?
I’ve hurt everyone in my life. I’ve got nothing left. Only reason I’ve not killed myself is because I’m to vain to have a closed casket. I’m not scared of death. I welcome it most of the time.
I’m scared of being alone.
I hate being me.


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