Suicide By Degree

Suicide by degree.
Seldom do I meet someone who doesn’t have something in their life that effects the quality or longevity of their life negatively. Many folks seem to put so much effort into not having a vice the act itself becomes a vice.

“Food folks” have it the worst. You can’t put on make up to cover the extra fifty pounds. You can’t suck in breath mints to cover the smell of the burger you just ate and the ketchup dropped on your new shirt is a sign to everyone you really enjoy your meals.

You can hide in a remote parking spot and enjoy the milkshake with two large fries, but it will come back at the cash register when you go to buy new clothes every week cause you aren’t comfortable in last weeks skin. Besides, you’ll have to replace the one you stained with the ketchup anyway.

You can justify this caloric catastrophe by joining the “Thick” club. These are the group , (mostly woman) who have embraced an illogical excuse to justify their eating habits, after all, being overweight is about eating habits. Some will say exercise is this issue, but that’s marketing the “fat” issue.

There are plenty of us around who remember a time when folks didn’t view food as an activity and eating was something you had to do, and if you wanted to it was because you were actually hungry, not bored or manic.

If drugs are your issue you’re the “Long Hauler”. You can hide a little easier during the “honeymoon Phase” and shift the reason for your new found confidence or beaming personality on a new boyfriend, or weight loss, or a promotion at work.

Then the awakening comes and you realize that you latched onto something bigger than you. Your confused look can still be explained away by the boyfriend losing his job, the weight coming back, or the pressure of the new promotion at work.

Years later you’ll walk around like a dog chasin it’s tail recycling these reasons till everyone knows “the deal” but goes along with you because they either benefit from your addiction, or your struggles remind them their life’s not really that bad, they could be like you. So your circle shrinks to a co dependent cluster &@$%!

Then the bottom rushes up like the troth on a roller coaster ride and your life revolves around nausea and out of body experiences. Then you find yourself standing in strange places surrounded by strange folks with very bad habits and intentions, and this is where the work begins!

Now you have to accept that your really not perfect and the road back to normal is so long you question bargaining your humanity for a hit, but the sun shines and you find yourself lying in 800 thread count sheets again with a fresh scented pillow and outlook.

The clouds roll on and you hold onto yesterday’s that were a distant memory. The urge to let go and fall resurfaces with a vengeance. You fight it with all your senses while your desire flashes like lightening. This is the new circle you travel, not perfect, but if you spin around it fast enough and long enough the centrifugal force will lift you a little further away from death and destruction.

So if your the alcoholic you’re on the slow role. Your tracks are easier to
hide over the long road. Social drinking is an entrenched tradition in America. You can act crazy drunk at sporting events and claim team enthusiasm or losing seasons for years before anyone looks twice.

The bad side to this is the slow role doesn’t really show itself physically till the damage is done, and its too late. So if you manage to avoid the mid life domestic violence exhibition or the DUI coming home from the party where you got out of control; you may just end up being the “Fun Guy” who passed away unexpectedly!

We all have heard the term life’s a gamble; well some folks take that literally. You don’t have to be rich to be a gambler. We mostly think of the person at the horse track or the smoky room with cards and sweaty guys drinking double scotches till the loser leaves in a fit if rage and goes home to abuse a family member; but that’s the television view.

There is an overlooked group of folks the state helps out with their addiction. The lottery playing Keno winning gamblers aren’t “real gamblers”, to most folks.

You can actually watch a television commercial for Gamblers Anonymous followed by a commercial for responsibly playing the lottery here in Georgia. The state had actually developed a commercial to ensure you sign your ticket so the thief can’t steal your earnings, or is that winnings; I’m not sure cause the whole scenario don’t make sense to me.

It’s all good though; cause this re-enforces to the guy or gal who stops at the convenience store to buy $50.00 worth of lottery tickets while taking their Keno earnings and funneling them through groceries to cash; everything’s good.

Well this has led me to the “Sexy Suitor”. You know the guy or gal who always has a “dirty joke”. The one who has two computers, one for work and one for play. He or she usually walks around with strange ideas about other folks habits in the bedroom.

You would think sex, as an addiction or vice, would be fun; not!!! Needing the attention associated with looking at folks for their physical value can be exhausting if you’re acting on your fantasy.

We’re all probably familiar with that feeling of remorse after doing something we no was wrong. You may even be able to assimilate the feeling of waking up next to someone who doesn’t resemble anyone you recall from the night before. Imagine if you never went to sleep and just came to that same nauseous feeling after a heightened hysteria, possibly more than once in a days time.

There are other folks out there who like pictures more than people. The possibilities of a photo are boundless, while the possibilities of a person are bound by communication and humanity.

The co dependent theme runs through situations like these and is its own addiction or vice. Needing someone’s attention to the point you enable their dysfunction is cruel on one level, and sad on another.

It’s an obsession to try to avoid these problems, and others not mentioned. Even if you do manage to live an abuse free life someone in your family or circle of friends surely is all in, somewhere. It’s tiring dealing with all the dysfunction, even if its the kind where we ignore the problem out of proper decorum.

My circle is small. It doesn’t include some family, and some old friends. The emotional energy it takes to deal with someone constantly “trying you” is exhausting. If you find yourself realizing intentions days after a conversation or request from a friend or family member; it’s time to tell someone to “kick rocks”.

Just on the other side of all this dysfunction is a whole “addiction industrial complex” that markets everything from global wars to cheating wives. Way too many folks benefit from food, drugs , alcohol, sex, etc…..

The whole middle class is tied economically to its own dysfunction due to being marketed for the media which fuels production. There are entrepreneurs who live off everything from objects associated with pop culture to houses lost by the unsuspecting who couldn’t keep up their game.

I saw a survey once about culture and life span. The folks who lived the longest owned the least, worked less, napped during the day, and had small circles of what seemed healthy friendships. This is diametrically opposite to what values we teach our children. We throw them into the machine from birth,

I’m gonna try out this longevity thing. I’m shrinking my circle, doing work I love regardless of the financial gain, and not buying ” stuff” just because its ” cool”. Some folks who know me think I’ve went off the deep end. Maybe I have, but ill never be shallow again, and I won’t miss much during my nap anyway.

From body concept, to clothing designer, all the way to media choices; I ain’t participating anymore.

Ill still smile when you pull up in your Mercedes wearing Polo underwear and matching cologne to discuss the latest criteria for the poseur nation. Just don’t expect me to follow you to the car dealer or the clothing store cause I can’t afford the drama that comes with chasing a dream that’s truly a nightmare.



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