There are a lot of people I miss from my past.
A lot of holes in my heart that hasn’t been filled by the loss of those people who were once in my life and some of them are dead now and some of them won’t talk to me because of their loyalties to others who have harmed me and so; they are not part of my life anymore.
Even the best of them had a lot of problems that the average Joe couldn’t cope with, but I didn’t mind them as they were the lesser evils in my life. I know it sounds bad to call them that, but if you had known what I was up against day to day you’d have a hard time believing that some of the people I miss were the good ones, but to me, they were the best!
To me they were brilliant, vibrant, they made me happy and they kept my confidence from reaching rock bottom.
So what if they had problems with their anger, drink, drugs, crime, so what if they were benefit scroungers, scarred, societal oddballs that had dubious leanings to the occult or were overzealous bible punchers. They were nice people to me and I loved them.
Even if sometimes I would be scared to visit them because their husband is home for once and drunk at the time and I never knew if I would need to stick around for her sake, just in case an ambulance was needed. Even if I knew that they themselves were drunk and would go on their vicious rants about other people I loved and would then start becoming weird with me, I knew they weren’t always like that and I forgave them because their lives were in some ways just as horrible as my own, if not more so.
To be honest, I think it was only a small margin of people in my life who weren’t addicted to something or another or didn’t have some kind of serious mental issue about them. To me, I am easily hurt in honouring them – what I mean is, I see people don’t forgive people like those easily. People don’t really support people like them unless they’ve been there themselves or loved someone who have been.
So it drives me around the twist when I see a lovely person like these people, striving hard against all the odds to become a sober person and someone bad from their past comes along to upset the cart or people who don’t understand or know them judge them harshly for their pasts where the poor buggers are sitting there wondering is there any point at all in being sober if I am constantly going to be judged all the time?
Is it any wonder they think that at all? I mean, why do people judge others for their past? The past is gone, praise them for their efforts now, never wield it as a weapon against them by suggesting that they need you, because oh you know, you’d go back to that way of life without me. That is blackmail and I have a hard time sitting around hearing that kind of vomit coming out of people’s mouths.
I have lost people I love to this, suicide because why did they bother? Murdered because their past friends snuck an injection into their arms when they weren’t looking at a party for an old time’s sake!
I’ve seen it all and I don’t like it.
I don’t like how people judge them.
It breaks my heart because all I can see are their floods of tears and their war wounds, still fighting hard against all the odds, and yet society wants to kick them down again – because they think that once you’re in that type of life, you always belong there and it isn’t true!
Society needs to change; they need to praise them when they try to get sober. Not kick them in the gutter because they tried to get a job and you’re judging them because they were honest with you about their past and why it took them so long to make the decision to have that career now!
I am disgusted at the law for locking addicts away into prisons making them criminals, when in fact most of them are actually very good law abiding citizens who only use their addictions as a means to cope with life’s hurdles.
Instead there should be recuperation centres or something, but not a prison.
Why am I talking about all of this today?
Because I miss a lot of people who have or had had that kind of life, I miss them a lot and I worry about them every day, I love them all a lot and I bet they think I don’t even think of them anymore – but I do!
My family run rife with drunks and junkies, some are law abiding but there are a couple who are out and out criminals, I won’t hide that.
To think I escaped that kind of life, people think it’s a miracle – but I don’t because you know… I see how addiction works, I understand it, I was raised to see it in every possible personality type you can think of. I did in fact become drunk for a small while in my youth because it made me human or so my mum and brother told me… here have another drink before you dry out and become like an old prune again Tee.
When I was drunk I was hysterical, I mean scared hysterical, not laughing at all – paranoid that the walls are falling around me, where is the floor? Scary stuff!
My family observed me through morphine when I was recovering from mastoid surgery; they knew what type of addict I would have been based on my behaviour during that time so they said – though it was small doses for two weeks.
Their observations scared me. According to them, I tend to be the type to love the world, be in awe of everything that’s beautiful, be easy going, do anything to me and I would do anything to myself sort. My brother freaked out, this is the type that is going to die on this stuff mum – make sure to keep her away from it!
They told me what I was like when I had it, it was enough to keep me away. They judged I’d be easy to bed, easy to anything and way too honest with people – a no, no in the family, I’d be a spill the beans and everything else on the floor type, my tongue is loose on those things, so they say.
I know on general anaesthetic it lasts longer on me too and although it’s kind of different people have also reported similar personality in me to the above observations. Lover of the world, everything is beautiful, I love you and you and you, yeah you can touch me, yeah I will stick my hand in the BBQ and take the hot coal out for you with my bare hands… seriously, this has happened to me and nobody stopped me doing it either, because the stupid bitch will learn, won’t she?
Nope, that happened twice in my life and nearly a third time when Paul was with me! Up until recently I was naturally trusting because I was always hopeful in finding the best in people, gets worse or comes back when I am drowsy because of meds. I still do try not to lose my faith in people – some will say that’s my biggest fault.
My family didn’t stop me doing things just because I was recovering from surgery and still under some kind of anaesthetic influence, Paul has seen what they’ve done to me, you could ask him yourself if you like? You have his email up there in the Email me tab.
Paul is sensible; on the two occasions I have lived with him and had been under the influence of anaesthetic he forces me to stay in bed for around 48 hours, it takes a time to leave me. It’s weird, even the doctors are puzzled why it stays longer in me.
Gosh I miss some of these people. I miss the console game parties they had, I miss the pub lunches once a month with them, I miss the dogs I had to babysit for them. I miss the gardening we used to do together as we helped our elderly relatives maintain their gardens, all sorts of things.
I miss the cuddles as they tell me that “you’re going to be OK, you smart beautiful girl because you are amazing and strong and you don’t let people push you into crazy shit like this” they say as they hold up their joint to me.
There’s too many, that are gone.
But never ever feel that I will ever judge you because of your past, that’s not me. I am not that kind of person!
I love you for who you are now and who you are striving to be and I wish that you will grow stronger and ignore anybody who tells you that you can’t change – you can change, you’ve probably changed so much already, but NEVER EVER let anyone make you believe that you can’t do it without them!
Never!
I love you all and I send all the positive vibes your way to help you heal whatever wound you have whether you are an addict or not!
Thank you for reading!
tardycreative.com 