responsible.

responsible.

I found myself sitting in a detox pod for two and half days over the long weekend which is a fancy way of saying jail except with flat screen TV’s.  The food is the same though. So are the people. I’m not even really sure how to wrap my head around everything that took place over the course of Saturday night.  One minute I was drinking John Daly’s having the time of my life with some girls I never met and the next I was hovering over my friend calling frantically for an ambulance trying to comfort him. Growing up you always hear that life changes in an instant but it really doesn’t mean anything until you experience it first hand. Now my life is going to be changed possibly forever for one dumb fucking decision that could have all been avoided had I called a cab. It seems that my years of partying, not giving a fuck, and thinking I was invincible is over. Life always has a way of catching up to you, especially if you give it enough time.

The most important thing is that he’s okay. He’s a little beat up but he’s going to live. Whatever happens to me now is irrelevant because of that fact. But I need to face whatever is happening to me and face it head on, day by day. Saturday afternoon I thought I was upset with where my life was but at least back then I had my freedom to drive, drink, smoke pot, and generally do what ever the fuck I wanted too outside of work. I don’t have that anymore. I probably won’t have any of that for the foreseeable future given I have a court order to stay sober and face the possibility of 3 years on parole.  I have a feeling this is life trying to teach me to be responsible for once and learn how to handle the problems I have going on in my life instead of tossing them aside and cracking open a beer. Only to say “i’ll take care of that tomorrow” then tomorrow never comes. I’ve made my bed and it’s time for me to lie in it. But he’s okay.

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