Crazy Sane Days

 

The last week has been a weird one. I know I tend to attract certain people. Babies love me. When a baby sees me, for some reason it can’t stop staring at me and is usually smiling. I think it has something to do with the jewelry I’m wearing. I’m usually wearing large, long, sparkling earrings that I’ve made. Also I have a unique voice. It’s quiet and child like. Most people don’t hear me. When I speak at a level where adults can hear me they (adults) find the pitch of my voice annoying. How do I know this? Because humans are rude and have no problem telling you that you should do “cartoons because your voice is so annoying”. I’ve had it put other ways but we’ll leave it at that.

Another group of people that I always find myself talking too are other alcoholics. I’m talking about in the grocery store, hair salon, drug store, etc. The day before yesterday I had to find a fitted sheet for my dad’s bed. His fistula had opened up somehow and he bled through his bottom sheet, the memory foam, and mattress. I wasn’t happy. Not because of him but because of the staff at the dialysis center.

I could smell booze coming from somewhere. The smell was so strong I thought they were having their Christmas Party in the Break Room of the store. I was wrong. I had also smelled it previously when I had been in a few weeks ago but I was in a hurry so didn’t think much of it. It was coming from one woman who worked there. I don’t know how her co-workers couldn’t smell it. I believe they all did and let it go. I heard customers commenting on it. She asked if I needed help and I told her what I was looking for. My dad called my cell right then too.

I was aggravated and just out of the Hospital. She was joking with me. I decided to try something. I said “Sometimes I wish I never quit drinking!”. The look on her face told me everything. She whispered “You have a problem with alcohol?”. I told her I do but I have been in “remission” for almost 7 years. She told me she had a problem and her husband was ready to leave her over it. She told me she kept trying but couldn’t go for long. The alcohol was coming out of every pore in her body. I personally felt that she would have to be in a hospital to detox in the safest way. I didn’t tell her that she looked like she was at a breaking point already.

I asked her how her job was. She said great and asked me not to say anything to her bosses. I touched her arm and told her they knew already. She looked confused. I asked her if she had drank before work, it wasn’t really a question. She looked surprised. I told her I could smell it and I’m sure they could too but because she’s good at her job and they like her they haven’t said anything yet. She had tears in her eyes and said how ashamed she was.

I told her first and foremost to take the shame out of the equation. She has a disease. Did I mention she’s also Bipolar and has not found the correct medications? This was a flashback to the woman I shared my Hospital Room with all over again. All I could think is what the Hell is going on??!! Is everyone a Bipolar Alcoholic in my State? It’s getting a little strange. Even someone who was in our State Government is. Is it the water? I’m not usually a Conspiracy Theorist although I am a fan of Oliver Stone movies. Platoon is my favorite. But seriously? 2 Bipolar Alcoholic women within days of each other meet a 3rd? What are the odds?

Anyway, like with my Hospital room mate I gave her some resources for both of her issues (I only do this if they ask how I manage) and wished her luck. I told her I hoped I would see her soon. The rate she’s going that might not happen.

Is that my calling? Walk around malls and department stores looking for people in crisis and try to help if they want it? I doubt it. I try to tell my sister or dad about these incidences but the looks I get stop me. It makes me feel positive if I’ve helped for even a minute by listening to them and acknowledging them. If it inspires anyone to go further that’s great too. I know I’m not a professional so I’m careful in what I say. My sister and dad think I’m not and someone will kill themselves and I’ll be held responsible. I’ll take my chances. If someone had seen inside of me years ago, seen the pain and damage I was hiding, and spoke up maybe it would have helped a little. Who knows?

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