I can’t get away from them. 

It was on Fat Tuesday, I was at my home turf bar I’ll refer to as “The Railway Station.” I had decided I was giving up my home bar for the 40 days of Lent even though I’m no longer a practicing Catholic. However I miss the social drinking and visiting with friends well they’re not really friends they’re my drinking buddies. But I do have one or two girlfriends that I do like to drink with. My close friend always goes out on Tuesday’s so I decided to go to her bar and have a drink. I found that it’s not the same feeling that I need, want or looking for nothing like what I get from the Railway Station. Maybe it’s because I know everybody there but then I didn’t know people at my friends bar. The drinks are more expensive, the music is different, the people are different. I was thinking I’m not really having any fun here. I guess because I like watching people and  I didn’t find any interesting enough to watch and I was missing Mr. Sam because Mr. Sam and I do have fun together. 

During the evening a few of the patrons from the Railway Station walked in to the bar I tried avoiding them but one of the old guys came and talked to me filled me in on all the gossip that I have been missing out on for the last two weeks. He talked about going out on a date with one of the bar girls and acquaintance of mine. He asked if she told me about the date, I said no I hadn’t heard from her in two weeks since Fat Tuesday. I told Mr. Sam at a different time that it bothered me that some of these people say we’re friends but you know deep down inside you’re not friends you’re just drinking buddies.  Folks who meet in a bar and share the love of alcohol. 

Do I miss drinking? Sometimes I miss the feeling that the alcohol gives me. Other times I don’t think about it all. Most of the time I like sitting and watching the people drink their alcohol.

I finally left when one of the bartenders from the Railway Station walked in. He’s always been a bit of a dick to me. I’m not sure why, but I dislike his bartender manners. He can make a delicious coconut mule, lemon drop shot and other shots. I totally ignored him like he does me on Facebook. It was 9pm and I was yawning, had nursed my drink for the last two hours. I was totally bored. I left. Home by 10:30pm. Wishing I was still in the in-crowd, wishing I could be drinking where I felt comfortable. I can’t wait until Easter gets here.

Interior – The Dive Bar

When you walk inside you can’t help but to notice the untreated hard wood floors. The wood-paneled walls, the pool tables and the bathroom doors with huge wooden handles that look like they’re from the Viking period.

Continuing to walking you see the most beautiful tables. The tables are cuts made from trees. Odd shaped, bark still on the sides and covered in a thick shellac. A few slot machines are there for those who enjoy to toss their money away.

interior, barlife,

At the bar there is an overload of visual stimuli. There are stickers plastered all over the glass door that leads inside the walk-in cooler. There is a beer barrel sticking out of the wall with a tap on it for the beer of the week. There is random candy boxes, potato chips and other snacks placed on the bar. The top of the bar is covered with bottles and bottles of every sort of alcohol.

There is a tiny cooler that keeps cold single bottles of wine, such as Barefoot. There are single bottles of Henry’s Hard Soda, Mike’s Hard varieties. And different flavored beer like the blueberry stuff, which is totally gross.

interior, barlife,

The Interior of this dive bar has always been interesting, dark and reminded me of something out of the 70’s that hasn’t caught up to present day. A person can’t sit there and not find something to stare at. Whether its one of the big screen TV’s or if it’s any of the bizarre, unique and quirky items hanging somewhere in that bar.

Feeling Out of Sorts [BFMH2016]

Tonight I was in the mood to have an adult beverage. I like going after work, stopping in with the work crowd. I seemed some out spaceytonight, Astro got a bit annoyed with me with I dropped the darts off the table. I’m not normally out of sorts. Not sure why I was, but I know that the alcohol hit me quick. I only had two bottles and then I left for home.henrys hard soda, alcohol, the bar

Before I left. A guy walked into the joint, I thought for a moment I thought it was Charlie. But then I remembered that Charlie is away at camp. This guy sat in the same spot that was reserved for Charlie. He spoke to Charlies old crew. I asked a friend of a friend “Who is that guy? I’ve hadn’t seen him in here before?” One of the friends says “that’s Charlie.”

I said nothing, just sat there for a second. Then the other friend said “No that’s not Charlie, he’s away at camp. He’ll be there for a while.” Again I’m sitting there spaced out, missing Charlie and wishing I would have told him that I was sorry. Why does it always end up that way? The last time is always the worst time, ending a relationship on a horrible note. Anyway, has my mind is wandering in that last moment Charlie & I were together Stan walks up to me.

Stan is an older gentleman who went down hill when his wife passed away last year. He couldn’t seem to keep it together. He is a really sweet old guy. He taps me on the shoulder and asks “How’s your brother? Is he still at camp? No way for him to get out, huh? Going to stay there for a long time, huh? He’s a good guy but made some bad decisions.” Now the one friend who said that Charlie was away also had a brief fling with him. She had been one of my replacements when I was taking a break from him. She is seriously a broken chick. She has talked to me, helped me take a mutual friend home because she was too drunk to drive. But at no time did I ever tell her who I am.

Everyone in the bar treats me differently than the others. Charlie’s other girls never stayed very long. But I’m the one everyone knows, who gets the respect of being Charlie’s girl. God how I miss his toxic behavior in my life. And I only miss it because his behavior kept me grounded. Grounded you say? Well in the way that Charlie acted out for the both of us and then I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to put my life on the line, by acting out impulsively. Sure I did with Charlie, the sex, the drugs, the booze and the running game and hustle. I was kept close to him, I felt safe in a twisted way. I guess that’s way I miss him. He’s the crazy part of me, always running. But when I get tired, exhausted and want to try to be normal I go home. Where I hide myself from the world.

As I sat there in the bar, I looked around at the people sitting there. Decided the best thing for me right now would be to go home. And so I did.

[Even though the “Blog for Mental Health” meme has been disconnected I continued to share…I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.]

Friday Night I needed a Drink

This past Friday night I posted on my Facebook page that I needed a drink. Normally I wouldn’t get a quick response from anyone. This night was different, I received a text from a childhood friend who asked if I wanted to go to a festival out-of-town.wine spritzer

I agreed. She told me to bring my camera. When I arrived at her home she offered me a glass of wine. She recently bought two VIP tickets to see “The Struts” in concert. She asked if I was interested in going. FUCK, really?! I’m terrified to fly alone, she already purchased her ticket. The reason she wants me to go is because she said “I know you take some awesome fucking pictures and who else loves glam rock as much as I do?!”

I do like the band. They’re British! lol and I do like glam rock.

I drove to the little town, we stopped at a little bar & ordered drinks. She drinks. Drinks a lot. A lot more than I do. My limit is 8 – 9 drinks. She ordered a vodka/cranberry. I ordered a wine spritzer which Pete the bartender was the idea of a perfect bartender. Super friendly. Accommodating.

We walked to the festival, more drinks. I hate beer. And most of the time these festivals only have beer, I ended drinking “Straw-ber-rita” by Bud. One. Two and then half of one of my friends. I don’t drink them slow either. She knows so many people who are in the local music community. I need something to help me come out of my shell. My self-esteem has hit a low, due to the weight I’ve recently gained. Now in my head I think “starting tomorrow I’m gonna hit the exercise trail!! TOMORROW!!!”

I ask myself “how bad do you want this?!” That’s my motivation. I need it. Gotta do it. FUCK.

Drinking alcohol doesn’t help I know. We left the festival and walked back to the bar. I had another wine sprizter which I ended up knocking half of it over because I it the glass with my elbow when I turned around to talk to someone. I realized at that moment that I had a brief second long blackout. I really have no idea how I spilled the drink. How does anyone spill a drink on the bar? I didn’t feel it on my arm or elbow. My girlfriend is about two drinks ahead of me, I can tell she’s buzzed. I know I felt that euphoric feeling, the one you get before you start slurring your words when you talk.

alcoholWe went back into the city, where she ended up going home and I stopped off at “the hole.” I miss Charlie, yeah I said this before. Another friend was there, she has a huge crush on Charlie and always hoping he’ll be there. But I’m not telling her that he’s never coming back. My jealous comes out when I hear her using first names with his x-crew. It really bothers me, not sure why. Maybe it’s because I want a place that’s mine, suddenly she comes along wanting to take a spot here. Anyway, I order a Barefoot sprizter. Talk to a few guys there. She introduces me to one of her friends, I’ve never met him before but the name rings loud. Charlie had gotten into a fight with him, knocked him out cold with one punch. Then the boys from the other crew came in looking for a chance to get even for the embarrassment. One of many reasons why Charlie is 86’ed from the bar.

“We’re all going up to Bruce’s place before they close for one drink.” I had no plans on going. Some how I ended up drinking 3 other people besides myself there. He ended up buying me another drink and a shot. I could start to feel the alcohol swirling up at the top of my throat, but soon settled. Then I felt my stomach flare up, my ulcer must be screaming at me to stop, but at this point I’m deaf from the loud music from the night.

He wanted to give me a ride on his motorcycle, but I just met him and even though it’s just down the street a lot can happen just a few blocks from home. I said “Thanks, but no.” He kept trying to get me to ride with him. I thought if Charlie was here, I wouldn’t even have been in this position. There would have been a fight, but I would be with Charlie having fun, not alone. Sure, hubby is home waiting, but he’s not one for all this drama & craziness. It’s one thing for me play in the playground of drunkenness but it’s another for him to do it.

Back to my home turf, it’s almost closing time. Another drink and another shot later we are getting kicked out of the bar. Even though we know the owner, he’s wanting to get out quick. I was so hungry, this guy wanted me to follow him to his sister’s house so we could all party. He kept asking me what I was going to do after this. SHIT. I’m going home and going to bed, fucker!italian beef

I drove across town to my favorite fast drunk comfort food joint is and ordered my usual. Chowed on the super fresh hot fires while driving home. Ate half the sandwich and leaned back on the sofa, passed out at some point. Put the food away, went back to the sofa and slept there. I have never been too lazy to walk up the stairs to go to bed to sleep, but this time I was. I heard him walk down the stairs early, I walked up the stairs to pass out again. Woke up around 1pm. Really?! shit, the guilt is the first emotion I feel. He could care less, as long as I had fun & no problems. I ate some more, felt slightly sick, couldn’t stop sweating. I didn’t toss my cookies, but damn. I wet a washcloth, placed it on my head, passed out for another more couple hours. I think that I had not eaten, I started working again and haven’t been sleeping well had something to do with all that.

In the back of my mind I thought “no more,” however I know that’s not gonna happen. I wont need to go out again for a while, give it a couple of weeks.

Alcohol helps make New Acquaintances…

Since Charlie has been gone from my life, I have needed to replace my drinking partner. It’s not always easy to do. A person who clicks with me isn’t always the easiest to find. Not to mention the high that I need when I’m out drinking with my drinking buddy.

[TRIGGER WARNING; for those who have issues with Alcohol & bar life.]

Charlie & I had a game that was all our own. Since he’s been 86’ed from “the hole” life there hasn’t been the same for me. I miss him. I miss sitting at the cool table. It’s not actually the cool table it’s more like the area of the bar where the cool, important patrons sit. I don’t sit there anymore. I haven’t been treated like an outcast (yet). I still get the respect from the cool kids. It’s just not the same, ya know?

There are only a few bartenders that I actually know and am comfortable with. They know what I drink and are friendly to me. They don’t stand there & talk to me like they do the others. They acknowledge who I am, now that the name Charlie is no longer spoken it’s pretty calm in there. One of his former crew members approached me “Can we talk outside?” Those sitting around me gasped for air. I didn’t panic because I hadn’t done nor said anything wrong. I think. Not this time anyway. “Do you know Dashing Johnny?”

“No, why?”

“FUCK! Charlie better not be screwing me over again with some bullshit. Your name got bought up for a reference for Dashing Johnny.”

“Ah, no. Don’t know him. Sorry.”

“My apologizes, I just thought I’d check out it.”

“Ok. Cool.”

I stood there with a dumb look on my face as he lit a cigarette. Other patrons walked out to smoke & I took that as my cue to return inside.

I met a friendly older woman there who Charlie had mentioned to be cautious of. He spoke of her in riddles, never came out and said exactly what he meant. He made it clear that I was to be careful of her. She’s funny, smart and looks a bit worn.  She also has health issues, which can be made worse when drinking & smoking.

We went for a drink that turned into a few more.

I should probably start referring to her as tileface. She ends up on the bathroom floor, not every time but its to the point where almost all the bar patrons know how she is.  She’s that friendly older woman who “loves it when you buy me shots.” If someone buys me a drink, that’s great. I’m not one to buy them for others, mostly for just my drinking buddy.Barefoot and casamigos

Drinking my new drink “Barefoot Spritzer” and she’s drinking something with Jack in it. We chatted. I also met another chick who is covered in scars from where she had cut herself several times over. There are tattoos that cover her skin as well. She stops by after work before she heads home. She is a woman who will not be afraid to admit that she’s a slut. That she calls the shots to her life, dependent on no one for whatever she needs. However, I still see the pain in her eyes. After talking to her I realize that she was the one that Charlie had moved in with last year when I had broken my foot. He told me he was using her because she was willing to give him a warm place to sleep, cook his meals, transport him places. She shared that she quickly grew tired of being used and kicked him out.

I start to lose her voice in a sea of bar noise I look across the bar to the cool table. I see Charlie’s former crew looking at me. I swear I almost felt their judgment, judging me for sitting here talking to “the cutter.” Most of the patrons know her reputation & they know she cuts herself. Should I judge her for that? Nope. We continue to share stories about the high of sex. She asked me if I am a sex addict. I revealed some of my sex experiences to her. Nothing too detailed just enough to let her know we have something in common. However, I’m no longer that person. That person only exists in my memories, that person who got drunk and fucked strangers was someone who needed to feel something because numbness & emptiness. I feel for her.

I had drank enough to feel a wonderful buzz. The bartender had given me a shot of Casamigos. George Clooney’s tequila. Made in Jalisco Mexico where my family is from, tastes so smooth going down cold. It was the kick I needed to push my buzz over the edge. You know that feeling, when you can talk to total strangers, when you think you can dance and that everybody wants you. LOL. I become friendly, touchy and loud. I continued to enjoy my buzz for just a little while longer…

Late Night [MM101, WW219]

Charlie called. He only calls when he’s drunk or feeling needy. “Where you at?”drinks at the bar

I answer him.  “At home, ready for bed.”

“Come down and have a drink with me.”

“It’s 10:30 (at night) I can’t.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to? Tell me you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

“See that wasn’t so difficult. Now come down and have a drink with me.”

“Ok, but I’m taking a shower first and I’m wearing my Jammie’s.”

“That’s fine.”

I showered, shaved and got dressed. I put on my blue nylon running shorts, white tube socks and my London zip-up hoodie. I immediately caught his eye when I walked into the bar.

Where is the soccer game?”

“HAHA!!! I couldn’t wear my real jammies. You know I sleep in a tank top & panties.”

“YEA I know!!! That’s what I thought you meant when you said you were coming out in your pj’s.”

He kept staring at me. He waved the bartender over and ordered us drinks. His eyes went up and down my body. He was buzzed as usual. I had gained a bit of weight since the last time he seen me, but I wasn’t too concerned about that tonight.

“Wanna a shot? Let’s do a shot!” He ordered us to shots of Fireball and our usual drinks.

FireballI took a sip of my drink and looked around the bar. I noticed that a few of Charlie’s crew were watching me. Trying to figure out exactly what was going on with us. I normally do not visit the bar on the weeknight.

One of the regular’s came up to me when Charlie had walked over to the jukebox.

“Hi. What’s going on? Here checking up on your guy?”

[Read More of Cat’s Sex Stories]

Charlie & I have been over for a few years. However we would hook up now & again, just not recently. The booze & CC are his main girls now. I just am there for company. Which I don’t mind (sometimes). Charlie comes back to where we were sitting. “Hey Bill,” as he taps Bill on the shoulder. “Why you trying to hit on my girl?”

Bill immediately apologized to him and to me. I smiled “it’s all good.” Bill bought the next round of drinks. More shots. More drinks. I stopped counting after three. Charlie didn’t mean too much by his actions, just that it keeps the undesirables away from me and at the same time it shows I’m a possession. Which I truly am not his, it’s just the game we play.

Charlie began rubbing my thighs while I sat next to him. I smiled at him. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re fucking hot. Take me home.”

“Really?! Come on can’t Bea pick you up?!” Bea was one of his newest girlfriends. She had only been there a few times, most of his crew did not like her.

“No. I don’t want to hear her bitching at me.”

I rolled my eyes at him. I stood up to leave, he followed. As we walked out, he put his arm around my waist. I said nothing thinking he’s drunk and he’ll stop when we get outside.

We walked to the car, he spun me around and kissed me. Pushing me into the car, we’re leaning on my car kissing each other. I have always enjoyed kissing him, tasting his lips, feeling his smooth soft lips. I could feel his cock hardening underneath his jeans as he pressed me hard against the car. His hand on the back of my head, tangling a handful of hair in his hand. He pulls my head back and begins to kiss then bite my neck. OMG. Why. This feels so good and I know it’s so wrong. Why does he have this power over me? I feel that familiar warm sensation in between my legs. He bite my neck. I gasped.


I could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to hit me. I love the beginning sensations of catching that buzz. We kissed a bit longer, deciding we should get into the car. We both looked at each other, smiling. He moved the seat all the way back, patting his lap I climbed on to him. We kissed deeply & passionately. I felt like I was in high school again. His hands up my shirt, under my bra, squeezing and kneading my breast. Just two buzzed people in a car making out.

He pushed two of his fingers in my mouth, I eagerly sucked them running my tongueBlowjob in the cemetery against them.  He pulled my shorts over to one side, pushing those fingers in to me. My body reacts willingly. He knows how to make my body quiver & shake. He smiles as he watches me orgasm. I watch as he sucks my juices off his fingers. “Hop off.” I sat back in my seat, watching him unzip his jeans. He stroked his semi-hard cock, looks at me. I leaned over and engulfed his cock into my mouth. My head bobbed up & down has he held my hair. My tongue swirling around his shaft. “Stop! Stop! Ride my cock baby.”

I pushed my shorts to the floor, climbed on top of him. Holding his hard cock with his hand he guided it into me. I rocked on his tool while his hands held onto my hips, gently pushing & pulling me back & forth on his member. We kiss, he takes a handful of my hair pulling my head back, he licking and biting my skin. I feel his body tighten and my pussy tightens around his cock. “Say my name. Baby Please say it. Say it for me. Please!”

“Charlie.” in a monotone voice.

Looking into his dilated, slightly red eyes, I know what he wants. I want it too.

In a stern demanding voice I say “Cum inside me Charlie. I want it, you do it! Cum inside me! Charlie! Now!”

I felt his hands on my hips again, guiding my rocking motion. I’m feeling an orgasmic buzz. I blackout for a mere second while my orgasm begins, hearing Charlie’s voice cry out “Oh Cat, baby, fuck.” My drunken orgasm was like an out of body experience. His eyes closed and a peaceful look overcame him. I laid down on him, we seemed to pass out for a few minutes. I came too, when I felt his cock melted out of me along with all our juices. I reached in to the glove box in search of tissues to a quick clean up. “Damn, did we pass out?”

“Yeah, I think we did.” in a fretting voice. He laughs, “we always had the adventurous kind of sex. You ready to go to County Line?” It’s another bar. I started the car and we were on our way for more drinks.

This blog post is for Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday. Wicked Wednesday ‘s prompt is about Alcohol. I have several posts about that topic.

[Read More of Cat’s Sex Stories]

Masturbation MondayWicked Wednesday

My Drug [BFMH2016]

I have stayed out of his place. A place that most patrons know who I am, where I get treated well, watched over and protected. A mutual associate wanted to meet there for some drinks. I haven’t been drinking much lately, I know that I could easily start another binge cycle.



I walked in, spotted him sitting in his usual spot. The spot to see both entrances, bathrooms and full view of the bar. I made no attempt to acknowledge him, nor make eye contact. I sat down with the friend. No more than 10 minutes went by before he had to walk past us, kissing me on the cheek and giving me a squeeze. He went on his way. Another 10 minutes went by and again the same thing. The body language that tells everyone in the room that I have a special meaning to him.

Our relationship has been so broken, from lack of trust, addiction, betrayal. We know each others secrets, we are unable to accept rejection or abandonment. We each take our turns with reaching out to each other to cling to. We both know that we can’t let go of some people, yet we kick others out of our lives so quickly that we can’t even remember their names or faces. We push each other away, grab on desperately when the other tries to leave. Sometimes the fear of abandonment is imagined, yet we reach out in attempts to keep the other here.

alcoholI ignored him for as long as I could, walked over while the friend was outside smoking a cigarette. “Charlie” has quit smoking once again, since he no longer fucks “CC.” I approached him from behind, he jumped. He had nothing special to say, it was kept brief. He wasn’t has drunk as he usually is. He was not “on” as I like to put it. He had no audience to perform for, those people who want people like us to “perform” for them. We are more than willing to make those people happy. But not tonight, he wasn’t. He was quiet, straight and reserved.

We had words the last time we laid eyes on each other. But because he is who he is, I’m always afraid that I may never see him again. Most of us know the stories of alcoholics, we know what happens to them when they don’t get help. I’ve been by his side since the spiral down began. I watched him lost everything dear to him, listened to him anguish over his life, his past. But why? Because I feel comfortable there. I need a drunk in my life to give me security, stability. As crazy as it sounds, it’s all part of my childhood.

Since we haven’t been hanging out together, I felt left out. And after a few drinks, I haven’t been counting like I usually do. The shots kept getting poured and I kept drinking them. My inhibitions lowered now because of my alcohol consumption. I sent him a text.

“I still adore you, even though you’re a shit. Don’t ever leave me.”

“Why would I?”

“because you don’t love me anymore.”

“love you very much silly!”

“Good because I would hate to lose you.”


“Thank you. i’m glad you don’t hold grudges like me.”

“haha naaaa. I’m the softer side of you”

“if anything ever happens to you I’d be miserable without you.”

“Anything else???”

“Anything else? I love yo in a way I don’t understand.” (Maybe what I think is love is not love at all, but me just hanging on to someone who only gives me drama, chaos and a self of security. Crazy sounding I know.)

“Yeah, but that’s a good thing.”

“I’m glad you think so.” (Even thought I think it’s crazy thinking).

“Always thought so.”

“Thanks. I need you. That’s what I hate. but if you’re ok with me needing you then I’m ok.”

“I’m very ok with it…you know that!”

“no I don’t always know it. I’m emotionally fucked up & insecure. spoiled brat & jealous and doesn’t play well with others.”

“HEY!!! like me!! Love you.”

“love you 2”

pool hallI hate that he is inside my head now. I can’t get him out. I’m not sure I really want him out. My emotional issues got the better of me. Alcohol does that sometimes, not all the time. I wish I could understand why is it that I am so addicted to this person. Why do I feel the need to have his chaos and drama in my life. I often thought that if I understood him I could understand myself. I try to keep my emotions level, but it’s when I get around him that I get out of control. It’s with him, it’s an “anything goes” environment. My impulsiveness, risky behavior comes out in full force.

I know that he & I have a toxic & dysfunctional relationship. I wish I could just walk away from him. Something always brings me back to him, either of my own desires or him calling me. I get kind of out of control, some times it’s worse than others. This night it wasn’t too bad. I know I did say a few things that shouldn’t have been said. That happens when the alcohol keeps flowing freely with no stop button.

my addictionIt’s dangerous how attached & addicted you could get to someone. The strongest drug that exists for a human being is another human being.

Alcohol [A to Z Challenge]

I was sitting here in my bedroom trying to think of something to write with that starts with “B.”

A subject or topic that I could write about for the A to Z Challenge, which I so impulsively joined in on today. I do stuff like that. I’m impulsive. Being impulsive is a part of who I am. This is not what I wish to write about.

Alcohol is another topic that starts with “A.”

Alcohol is my drug of choice. I am NOT an alcoholic. However, I have been assessed a few times by the professionals. None have said that I have an issue with alcohol that would cause severe consequences in my life.

I have some experience with alcoholism. There were several family members who suffered and are suffering from this disease. I have always attracted these personality types. If the Law of Attraction is correct, then I’m fucked up. I need to work on my thoughts. I don’t ask for alcoholic men to befriend me. I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m that girl. The one who likes to party, who knows how to have a good time and who will babysit the guy at the end of the night. 

I’ve dated a few alcoholics in during my single days. What a nightmare that was. Lemme just say I was a different person back then. I’m just glad that I learned from those mistakes in those relationships. 

Symptoms of BPD are impulsiveness along with substance abuse. This includes booze. Lately, I have spent a lot of time with “him.” Someone who provides the crazy, chaotic and emotional roller coaster that BPD people seem to be attracted to, cause or need to feel normal. I like to drink. I have often joke, saying I wish I could have partied with Charlie Sheen back in the day. Lately there have been days that he calls or texts me to meet him at the bar. It’s as early as 8 o’clock when the bar opens. I end up staying the entire day, long into the night with him. Laughing, drinking and being completely care-free, not to mention irresponsible. This is how I know I am not addicted to booze or other substances. Because I can go days, years without having anything. I don’t need it to feel better or to numb my emotional pain. Alcohol helps me to “loosen” up. I tend to be uncertain, fearful of judgment from others. While under the buzz I can feel that false security. I don’t worry anymore about what others think of me. I am that person that is the entertainment. I refer to myself as a “trained monkey.” I make others laugh, I’m outspoken, daring and rebellious.

 Drinking all day, into the night-time isn’t something I want to do all the time. Hanging with him is something I enjoy, but not all the time. I enjoy the buzz, I enjoy the bullshit we toss at the people in the bar. We make a good team when we hustle. When we play the game. I also know that this behavior can not last forever. It reminds me of when I used to go out every weekend, of course during the 80’s. I have drank too much, too often. I haven’t been writing anything here, because of the drinking. I have kept up with my amateur erotic photography, however I did miss a few Sinful Sunday’s because I was out drinking with him.

He is off tomorrow and Friday. I am off on Friday. We already made a somewhat commitment of getting together for drinking. I’m hoping that he doesn’t contact me tomorrow for company. I would rather wait for Friday for drinks. I usually post my drink images on my instagram or flickr accounts. You can follow me there.




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