I've Never Been Good With Forevers.

Who would you take a bullet for? Like a legitimate bullet. Imagine some dude with a gun pointed at someone's head...who would that person have to be before you jumped up to save them? Previous to this past year I would have said that I would have taken a bullet for my cats. Yup. My cats. Most notably Toddy Bear (originally named Todd Henry Green aka Speedy the Infamous). Yes, that was his entire name. His name matched his immense personality...and love.

Taking a bullet for a cat sounds bizarre, I know this. But Todd was not any ordinary cat. He was Toddy Bear. The man, and only one in my life when I first moved to Los Angeles. My mother had just passed away, I had sold everything I owned and was living with an initial stranger in a big city. I had recently broken up with my boyfriend and when I adopted Todd I swore it would be me and him forever.

I've never been good with forevers.

Todd was loyal, forgiving, unconditional and innocent. Nothing he had ever done in his entire kitty life was deserved of a shot to the face. In an instant I would have protected that cat with my entire body, despite myself. I loved him with all my heart because 1. I knew he loved me with all of his heart and 2. I was all that he had. I was all that he knew. Without me, he was alone, and without him, I was alone. He was my everything.

Recently I considered who I would take a bullet for...the person I felt their life more precious than my own. Two people instantly came to mind: My best friend since I was 6 years old, Samantha, and my confidant who has been with me throughout majority of the worst time of my life, Jennine.

When you're spiraling down and you become a shit-head of a friend and a babbling, pathetic mess...when everyone else bails because they can't handle you at your worst, you see who cares for you most despite themselves. Both Jennine and Sam have been by my side...through my pathetic sobbing, my depression, my anger, my babbling...through the pain and the frustration and the weaknesses...they both stood by my side and never judged me. They stood there like guiding lights. They didn't carry me, but let me get up on my own and find out who I really was. They let me talk nonsense, they held me when I sobbed and never once gave up on me.

I would take a bullet for them.

When you hit a certain low in life, you see things differently. Some people get religious, some people get spiritual, and some people let the bottom overwhelm them and just get deeper and deeper. You become selfish and self-absorbed and can only think about your own survival. It's a horrible place to be. You become bitter, angry, negative, frustrated, depressed, and you find comfort in things that take you away from the fact that you hate yourself. In my case, I let whiskey take me away from it all.

I equate my spiral to a rabbit hole. Somewhat like Alice in Wonderland but in a fucked up Never Neverland, where you run into bizarre characters in a world that just refuses to grow up. Everything was backwards and all screwy. Trying to get through that was a nightmare. I can't explain what it feels like to move back home to a place where everything is turned upside down and everyone looks at you like YOU'RE the crazy one. Read Alice and Wonderland and tell me you don't feel like you are on the worst trip ever. Kind of reminds me of last summer when I was given an edible after I had been drinking whiskey. I will tell you now, I was seeing shit in 3-D! I felt like I was free-falling for 6 straight hours and was stoned for 3 days after that! My entire year was not that intense, but there were days when I definitely could not get a grasp on reality. I think drinking was a big factor.

Lately I have dreams where I accidentally drink. I go to reach for a glass of water and after drinking it I find it's a beer or whiskey or wine. And I am angry because I had worked so hard not to drink just to have my muscle memory decieve me. It's not that I want to drink anymore, but I find that it has become such a habit that familiar situations like hanging out and having a simple glass of wine or a martini was routine...and my fear is that subconciously I will put that glass to my lips and blow it.

Nights out are not the same. Maybe it's because I am completely content with my life right now that all I really want is to be home with friends or working out at the gym. I crave stimulation, but not the same kind that I got from whiskey. I want mental stimulation from intellectual conversations or pushing myself physically. I want to talk about the wonders of the world, the complications of the English language, communication and love; of human nature and how we could improve ourselves purely on changing one thing about ourselves. I want to feel that burn in my muscles, strengthen myself from the inside out, push myself a little further each time to prove that I am still alive and that despite what I put myself through, I will regain back all that I lost.

I need to stop listening to Damien Rice on my Pandora...he is not conducive for witty posts on my blog. Or maybe it's that right now I am getting to the nitty gritty of this. It's been almost a month now and I have not had one drop of alcohol. Not a sip, a gulp, a taste...nothing since I started this blog. I told my ex that I stopped drinking for a year and he told me "No booze for a year is way too long to not party! Maybe you should just do drugs instead". Needless to say that is probably why he is my ex. Sarcastic as he might have been, I don't want to hear the negative aspect to this, I want to hear the positive; that I have inspired others, that he was impressed with my ballsy choice to do this. I don't need to hear I need some other stimulant to get me through this. I am bigger than that and I am fun as hell without it...though apparently not as good of a dancer.

I am inspired by those I have inspired...by those who choose not to drink when they are with me purely to see if they can. Few are able to go a whole night, and I understand that...trust me I do. It's hard to be social and sober in this town. I get it. But it helps to know there are people willing to join me...and that Jennine is right there with me...sober as a stone and laughing all the way with me...

And that is why I would take a bullet for her...