Day 2 was a roller coaster.
A roller coaster on amphetamines.
Throw in some heroin-cold-turkey and some massive lines of coke.
And then another vicious lurch along the tracks, a crest, a fall and yet another corkscrew.
No seat-belts.
No breaks.
A decaying, 70yr old roller coaster, built before Health & Safety, and everyone’s fucked off their heads on class A narcotics heavily cut with household cleaning products.
Then, just for a giggle, punch drunk and reeling, we got shoved into a tumble dryer, after being forced to take three tabs of acid.

Maybe I’m over stating the highs, lows, and unpredictability. The complexity, brutality, hope, despair, frustration, the bruising.


I’m not going to try to recount the arcs. I lost my way too often. I lost track often enough. I lost hope more than once.
And at the end of the day …
Words words wordsfukingwords

… and I could have walked away. I could have walked the hundreds of miles it had taken hours to drive. And when I had got home … home? … I could have packed my bags and lost everything.




One Response to “Rollercoaster”

  1. But you didn’t walk away. Hang in there. You are doing the best thing you can for yourself and your children. Whether this marriage continues or not after this ‘retreat’, at least you’ll know why and have no more doubts.
    Sending good thoughts your way

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