Rage — HarsH ReaLiTy

I think we all have definitely been that guy! It happens and is what they call this so called life. Thanks for sharing the link on! -OM
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Live Free 2 Sail Fast

Although this is a re-blog from the Harsh Reality/Opinionated Man Website, I need to preface with the fact that I’ve screwed up a few times and have no excuses.  Four years ago at a New Years Party with my family that was hosted by my Best Man,,,, I drank too much and lost control.  I blacked out,,,and the nightmare scenario of PTSD came out.  I lost control and don’t remember to this day what happened or what I said.  When I woke the next morning, my best friend and best man told me I had said horrible things to someone and I slinked out as quickly as I could, the family in tow.  Since then, I’ve seen him and his wife exactly once.  We’ve talked several times and I apologized profusely several times.  But this doesn’t mend the damage or fix the bridges that I broke.  But, the friendship must…

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Sunday Share: Y2W10

I appreciate you including my post and the shout out! -OM
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All In A Dad's Work

The third month. Oh three. A quarter of the way through 2018! Crash (10) can now do long division and multiply multidigit problems. Bang (6) can tell time on an analog clock and add numbers with carrying. Have you learned anything new this year?

If not, that’s okay. There’s still time. I visited Body Worlds so I learned how small an appendix and uterus really are and that our veins and capillaries are 60,000 miles long.

While you’re waiting to learn something new, check out these posts that I read last week. Maybe you’ll learn something.

Harsh Reality
A new position and some emotions…

Three’s A Herd
Where’d those words go?

Tania 2 A Tee
Learning something new…

Dream Big, Dream Often
On haters and quicksand…

Erika Kind
Things are said,  things are done, be better…

As always, you can find and follow me on Facebook, Instagram, and

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How the Bottle Drank Me

There was a time in my life when I was an alcoholic. Generally when I share this information people look at me and my youth and instantly shake their head. How can someone so young have ever had a disease that is always given a face of age, grief, and shame? What they see are the walls I have always surrounded myself with. What they don’t see is the soul inside that screams at those walls.

I entered the state of grief when I was rejected the second time by my birth mother. I count the reunion that did not happen as our “second time” because the first feeling of rejection had to be when she left my ass on a street at the age of two years old. Is there any worse way a person can reject someone? I suppose there is, but for a two year old I imagine your reasons are insignificant in comparison. I don’t remember the pain of that day, but when I compare it to the pain I felt during her second rejection I can only imagine. I became the man in the iron mask.

I found an instant companion at the age of eighteen for my new found grief as I went to college. It was neither a she or he, but instead wore a label of the day. The numbers mattered little because we didn’t need digits to connect. All I needed was a willingness to open the cork or top and a resolve to see the deed done. I became an expert at attempting to crawl inside a bottle and in the process I began to destroy my liver. It felt great to finally feel a pain to accompany the pain I felt within.

In 2003 I returned after my failed “prodigal son” journey and resolved to up my game. I was in such a hurry to reacquaint with the bottles of my life that when I landed in Memphis, Tennessee I didn’t stop. I hit the ground running and immediately jumped in my car to drive six hours to Knoxville. Once there I was able to hide my shame from those I cared to hide it from and in the same moment I found freedom at last. I was finally free to hate myself and the happy ending I would never have. I was ready to die.

At the age of 23 I was a full-fledged alcoholic. Some people will immediately ask me with scrutiny in their eyes “what do you mean you were an alcoholic? All kids drink in college and in their youth.” That is very true. Many kids do drink in college and normally their goal is shared. They are out to have fun or to release their stress. Drinking for me became an afterthought. An automatic-thought and action I would do daily and sometimes hourly. I woke up and had a scotch before the breakfast I didn’t eat. I went to bed forcing myself not to count how many it took to get me to sleep. It normally took enough that I couldn’t count them anyway.

I became the type of person I despised. I would walk into Joe’s Liquor Store on Poplar and buy the cheapest, rawest pint I could afford. Roughly four dollars and fifty-three cents later I would crack that bottle open while putting my car into reverse to head home. There was nothing cool about it. I just didn’t give a fuck. And that was how the bottle began to drink me back.

-Opinionated Man

Jason C. Cushman

@smokendust

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WordPress Meet and Greet – All Bloggers Welcome

All bloggers are welcome to use this post as a forum for meeting new bloggers and finding new blogs to visit! Feel free and promote yourself below! Visit some blogs and make some new friends!

This post now has over 2,000 active bloggers waiting to connect in it. I encourage anyone looking for new blogs to view or people to converse with to browse through the comment section and network!

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