Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Well...err...you don't have to. Not at all. In fact, I don't even know why you're reading this post.
I know why I'm writing this, though.
Because after all the underwear is said and done, at the end of the day I have a story. And someday, it will help someone.
There are a lot of self-help books out there about addiction. Books for the addict on how to stop. Books on how to love the addict, but help yourself. Books on how to re-build a relationship with an addict. How to love the addict and hate the addiction.
But I didn't do that. I made a choice ten months ago, and now I live with it. I chose to look at the facts of the situation, listen to my rational side, and decided that I would be happier single for the rest of my life than with said addict.
This isn't a story to convince anyone of my sainthood. This is a story about self-preservation. About natural instinct. About listening to your gut, coping, and moving on. About finding some humor in a crazy situation to maintain a shred of sanity. And if I have to wear underwear on my head while talking to you in order to make you laugh, so be it.
Hopefully, at the end of this, I'll have made some valid point that no one else has had the courage to say. Maybe, just maybe, someone can find direction and humor in a situation they're faced with from all of this.
Like I said. Everyone has their story, and I'm going to say mine. I don't care if you read it or not, but I think it's pretty interesting. Maybe I'm just a little biased.
Act I to come soon. The topic might be a bit heavier than underwear for the next few posts. Just a fair warning.