March 2016 – Ghost Lit

It has recently come to light that there is an addict in my inner circle.

She excels at her job. She drives a luxury vehicle. Her husband is a great guy and treats her like a queen. She’s an extrovert who’s always been the life of the party – I’ve known her since forever. She’s my foil, the mirror image of my personality. I often wish I had the balls she has.

She also shoots up with narcotics, and when that was in short supply, downing as much alcohol as she could. And has been doing so for quite some time.

It all came to a head when her narcotic source turned her in.

Currently, she is in a posh rehab facility and jobless. I was one of the last to know, as per usual. I’m not much for crying, but I got so emotional on the phone with her. I had to visit her.

I went to a counseling appointment with her. She’s the same sober – perhaps a bit more in touch with reality and not always complaining about how tired she was or napping (which now I can attribute to her in between doses). She was so good at hiding her addiction that her husband had no idea. She is learning how to stay sober and they are giving her the tools she needs to succeed in her sobriety once she leaves the comforts of rehab. I had a good visit with her and learned a lot by going to my first AA meeting at the facility. I was struck by the humanity.

It also hit me like a ton of bricks. Based on what I learned through her and the meetings, I strongly feel that there is another addict in my circle, one who’s behaviors mimic her’s – the drug is alcohol. There’s been some mild confrontation – a breakthrough here and there – but ultimately what I believe is an addiction. I shared these thoughts with my suspected addict and got silence. Next steps? Abstinence or counseling. Neither of which I believe they will go for – but in lieu of trying to change someone’s behavior, I have decided to change mine and leave the presence of this supposed addict when they’re on a “high.”

As someone who has never dealt with addiction, I am in uncharted territory, which happens to be underwater and I’m not a very good at keeping my eyes open while swimming.

Here’s to the salty water not stinging too much.

It will be 2023.

I’ll turn 42 that year – the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything – according to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

I have no freaking clue of where I’ll be emotionally/physically/spiritually/metaphysically this summer, let alone 7 years from now.

Sure, I have hopes and dreams, but those should (in the human sense) have taken place at 32, not 42. My husband will be in his fifties. I know the Lord disregards age, but I do not even have a hint of what is to come in that time. If anything.

There’s a chance of us moving – or putting our current house on the market at least – but nothing has been decided. I love my little corner of the world here by the ocean, but I don’t know if that move involves a smaller house in our beach community or another cross country move, or if I’m repeating the past, a move further south. As of the moment, there is no for sale sign and no plans.

So many variables, so little time.

I used to have a plan, but I don’t live like that anymore. So much of it is up to the Lord, His guidance, and what will ultimately become of my job. Rumor has it we’re merging with another company. I’m not sure how I feel about all that. But even so, the details haven’t been worked out yet.

I think that’s the problem with growing older when you don’t kids; the world is your oyster and you’re not planning life around little people who need you for everything. I watch my peers from the past – all of them have kids – and they are in such different places than I. In many ways, they are older and more adult than I am. I’m just an overgrown college student without classes compared to them.

So here’s to tomorrow, this summer, this fall, this coming winter – what events will shape me in the year of 2016? That is the bigger question.

Ghost Lit

Month: March 2016

Another turn

Writing Challenge Day 14: Your life in 7 years