alcoholism

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Hello, yes, it’s been a while. Not much, how ’bout you?

I want to tell you I’ve been volunteering for all different causes – saving rain forests, eradicating world hunger and whatnot -but the truth is that it’s a very busy time of year for the Subourbon family. Summer is the season we generally reserve for inviting ourselves (and then overstaying our welcome) to all of our friends’ second homes. ~ Oh, come on. Knock off the judgment, will ya? I mean, you may turn your nose up at us, but you can’t deny our flair. We’ve had a fabulous summer dawdling in multiple semi-chic destinations – and all with a single mortgage payment! How can you beat that?

We’ve become so astute at this art of home-mooching that we’re sometimes granted entry to the same places year after year, and even add new destinations from time to time. I think the key to it (along with our undeniable charisma) is having an entertaining, polite child. If it were strictly up to M & me, I don’t know that we could pull it off. But if you add a kid to the mix and teach her a couple of songs and dances, we’re pretty good company.

The problem is that G keeps aging. I mean, she’ll be 5 before long! How can she do this to me? (Oh sorry, I know that probably sounded self-centered. What I meant was, “How can she do this to us?”) The invitations could be drying up before long, but you know as we say down here, “Tomorrow is another day.”

So, yes, the point of this post is to let you know we’re having a great summer, and you shouldn’t be worried. Oh, and also to ask if you own a place anywhere I want to visit.

And, I almost forgot, if you’re not following Jenny Milchman (soon-to-be-known author and Friend to Subourbon Wife {FSW}, and you have kids – and like books -you’re missing out. Poor you.

Status Check: Are we all healthy and happy and relatively sober? Well, good then. If not, phone a friend, or make a decision, or email/call anonymously and ask for help. There are people who love you that you haven’t even met yet – and they probably know you much better than you know yourself. Seriously; no lie; for real. I mean it.

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A Year Later

Now a year into this blog experiment, I pause to reflect. Am I a different, brighter, better person than I was when I wrote this a year ago? Have I affected millions of lives by settling wars and saving the planet (simultaneously, of course)?
Huh. Perhaps not.
Did I at least self-publish the book as I set out to do at the beginning of 2010?
No, I guess I didn’t.
I blame you, of course – you people who said I should hold out for a real book deal. You lovely people who cheer me on behind the scenes and don’t let me forget my dream of seeing my name on a book cover. (On the flip side, if not for your worthless encouragement, I could have self-published this bitch a year ago and been done with it.) But seriously, thanks to all the addicts, alcoholics, and the sane ones too (you “sane” ones are the worst!) who make me feel my story is worth telling. Or at least worth about 3 minutes of your day, which is how long you generally stay to read. (If you stayed any longer, I’d probably be sick of you, too.)

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Stop pestering me about why I haven’t posted recently. I’ve had a terrible cold – the kind where you ache even when you’re lying perfectly still in a comfortable bed – and I wasn’t sure if I’d pull through it or not. Since it seemed like rather a waste to post messages for you to read only after I was already dead and gone, I decided not to risk it. But the good news is it appears I am going to live after all. My skin, which previously could only be described as cadaverous, has now shifted to being merely wan. And my voice, lost for two full days (you’ve never seen M so content), is almost back completely. It’s still kind of a deep, throaty voice that I’d love to have as my normal speaking voice instead of the chirpy one I usually have. (Note to self: research how to permanently damage vocal chords in order to sound Debra Winger-ish every day.)

You know how I don’t like to go on and on about myself (haha, snort), so I should mention that M and little G were also sick, although not nearly as pathetic or whiney as I. G, being 4, didn’t let it slow her down one bit. M chose to handle his cold differently, and his condition improved pretty quickly. See, being a man, M refuses to go to the doctor. So what he did was diagnose himself with a sinus infection. Knowing the doctor would prescribe amoxicillin (as they do for everything ranging from a broken arm to pneumonia), he took it upon himself to obtain the drug ghetto-style. He learned that amoxicillin is also used in fish tanks, so he simply went to the pet store and bought some. The medicine bottle literally has a picture of a fish on the front of it. Each capsule contains 500mg, so he fixed himself right up. (Please don’t interpret this as medical advice; I feel sure he will sprout fins any day now.)

With our keen ability to diagnose ourselves with any condition we read about on the internet or watch on TV, I don’t know why we shouldn’t be issued our own prescription pads. It seems like this would save a lot of time and not cost our insurance company nearly as much – although we would probably have to get it under M’s name, since some people probably would assume giving a prescription pad to an admitted alcoholic might lead to trouble. I know. People can be so judgmental.

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In this morning’s headlines:

LONDON — Alcohol is more dangerous than illegal drugs like heroin and crack cocaine, according to a new study.

British experts evaluated substances including alcohol, cocaine, heroin, ecstasy and marijuana, ranking them based on how destructive they are to the individual who takes them and to society as a whole.

Researchers analyzed how addictive a drug is and how it harms the human body, in addition to other criteria like environmental damage caused by the drug, its role in breaking up families and its economic costs, such as health care, social services, and prison.

My reaction: DUH! I’m no scientist, but I could’ve told you that. Maybe I’ll start calling myself “Dr.”

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For Susan

I am going to Susan’s memorial service today. Susan had a quiet strength about her, and a smile for anyone who crossed her path. She was a mother and a friend. She was conservative and pretty, and always very well put together, as if she stepped off the pages of a Talbot’s catalogue. She was an alcoholic, but she had several years of sobrieity. She relapsed 2 weeks ago. I guess the pain was too much for her, because Susan took her life last week.
Alcoholism is a bitch of a disease. It kills people. I’ve been told to have a black suit ready if I am to hang out with people with this condition. This is the first time I’ll have to put it on, and I’m sad.
Susan, I will miss your smile. God bless.

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