A guy in my situation is supposed to also be concerned about a little thing called “addiction”. It’s a state where one loses self-control. Doesn’t have the ability to say “no” when he should. If that happens, the addicted person is left without choices, meaning he follows a path he may not want to be on. Some physical or emotional need impels him to do things his common sense wants to override.
Well, duh! I’ve been an addictive personality all my life, albeit that’s probably not the best use of the word. Then again, maybe it is. You see, I’ve both caused addiction and suffered from it. Being married four times, always unsuccessfully, and as one half of what I’d guesstimate are hundreds of relationships over the years, I always managed to pull ‘em in when I wanted. If I’d truly been the friend those women thought me to be, I’d've told ‘em to haul ass ’cause I wasn’t any good for ‘em. Yet, as they were also my addiction, by class or species, I had no power to make myself say it.
Examining the topics where I’ve been the obviously addicted party, the most noticeable now is tobacco. I’ve smoked for 48 years, since I was 15, and have been told it’s killing me via my stage four adenocarcinoma, (a form of lung cancer). You might say I was addicted to booze, spending 35 years, (ages 15-50), with alcohol governing my life. If it’s any help in making the comparison, Alcohol is as poor a “leader” as M. Bareass Obama, and he’s the worst I’ve ever seen in my life.
When my right leg was crushed in a car/motor scooter accident in ’65, I had 270 injections of morphine and Demerol over six weeks. Those 3½ days of withdrawal were pure agony and the main reason I stayed away from all the drugs my buddies were messing with at the time. So, my doctors also worry now I may be flirting with addiction again. Just before I started the chemo for my cancer in January, 2012, the tumors had become incredibly painful. Both my docs were lightning fast with prescriptions. Very, very helpful.
Then the chemo worked. The tumors disappeared after four months of the devastation I felt by being injected every four weeks with deadly poisons. However, the ongoing, increasing pain from a left knee that’s bothered me for a good 10 years or more is still there. However, the Naproxen that handled the knee pain before won’t cover it after a few months of using Vicodin. Funny how that works.
Now my cancer doc, Bill “The Wonder Boy Doc” Mitchell, says he’s not comfortable giving me cancer dope for knee pain. He worries about addiction, increased tolerance, and other things, although he at least doesn’t mention M. Bareass Obama among the ugly parts of what could befall me. That matter is still under discussion, but no one has yet congratulated me after I was able to overcome the biggest, most compelling addiction of my entire life.
Women. Nothing has ever caused me to make as many bad choices, or do as many stupid things, or allow myself to be swayed and guided as have women. Oddly enough, I now find it was primarily sexual in nature, coupled with the fact I feel women make better friends and conversationalists, in most cases. Little did I know such a raging addiction can be cured by the simple combination of living 4⅓ years homeless and developing diabetes.
Who’d'a thunk it?
In the end result, it seems women are, at least to me, heroin in high heels. It’s so nice to now be able to say rather blithely, “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”
I’m just sayin’.
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