Sitting on the backporch having my second cup of coffee and smoking (coughed my head off this morning). I have got to quit. It poured buckets of rain last night and the porch leaked. More home repairs in the future….
I want to do something fun today. I am still underwhelmed by normal fun things. Nothing seems to compare to the thrill of gambling, but I know that is a lie. It is the addiction that wants me to remember the fun and not the consequences. I wish the thoughts or urges would just go away completely. I can at least go long stretches without them, but then all of a sudden, bam! There I am. I can post on here something very positive and that I am feeling good and strong and in a day or sometimes within hours I feel like I am back to my old scheming self. I think I would need a labotomy to disconnect the damaged parts of my brain. I have a gorgeous Sat. In front of me. Why is it all I can imagine doing is inside with dim lights and flashing pictures, dings and pings, and bump, bump,bumps. In cigarette filled air with sad or drunk people walking like zombies around me. Oh, there it is, the under side of the fun. The desperatiin. The sick stomach, the praying for forgiveness or for God to let me win.
Right, so I can’t have that today. I don’t want that. That is not fun. It is the opposite of fun. It is crap!
