Grey guts.

This is about addiction.

I'd like to say that this isn't something that's familiar to me. I'd like to say my recent experience with addiction was a new one. I'd like to say all kinds of shit that appears to be clever and inspired. But mostly it's just sad. Mostly it's just like taking off your clothes. Not hot sex. Not passion. Not ideal. Just naked. Hair, blemishes, knock knees, scars, pot bellies, whatever you have. It's what you are. It's what we all are. It's what we all hide.

My father is an addict. He is an alcoholic. He beat my mother, and me. Although I don't remember much about that time. I remember enough. I'd like to say he isn't a terrible man. But I just don't know. I haven't spoke with him in 5 years. I don't know why. I guess it would be more accurate to say he hasn't spoken to me. He has not communicated with most of his family, if any, in a very long time. I guess that's what he needs. I can't really say. I don't know why. I'm told he is doing well with his addiction, and that is definitely a good thing.

But for me, I guess the damage is done, and I notice that addicts don't really come clean (to turn a phrase) very well, and face up to the people they abuse. They generally consume the ones they love, like they do their drug of choice, and once that is done, discard what is left of that person

My wife is an addict. She smokes pot everyday. She uses several other recreational drugs. She has used them enough to have to hide when she uses them, to lie about using them. She used them enough to become verbally abusive with me. Enough to fight with her friends, and family. I lived with this for several years. One year without it, while we were separated. She is 36 years old and claims that the most important thing to her is being a mother. A coke snorting mother I suppose. I'm not judging you drug users out there, I don't really care what you do. But for me, it doesn't work. I've tried it, it was fun. But I don't need it to have fun. I can do that without drugs.

Really what it comes down to is self medication. Something, somehow, is inside of her, that she needs to cover up. Some people get prozac. She chooses cat tranquilizer or pot. I can go on and on about how empty she is when she's high, how it's like being with a body, but not a person. Indeed, I've written many pages on it already. What I'll do with that I don't know. It probably doesn't matter. It's a painful experience to have someone choose drugs over you. Every time they look you in the eye and lie to you about their drug use, it's betrayal. It's infidelity. So what if she lays with another man? Here she is, looking at me, at our union, our trust and breaking it, saying, snorting coke or dropping ecstasy is much more important to her than being honest with me. She is betraying me in her heart, not just her body. And because she can't go a day or a week, or month (for fuck sake) without drugs, she never really knows her own feelings. She never really sees the pain she is giving to those around her.

My addiction?

I'm addicted to her.