Dear Fox Foxerson,
My best friend and I have been doing drugs together since high school. We managed to get good jobs, get married, and have kids. Our families went on trips and hosted holidays. He and I often drank and sometimes smoked meth at these events. Well, the meth got worse, and I went to treatment. He refused and became a fucking lunatic. My wife and I eventually took in his family because he used daily and was horrible to be around. She filed for divorce. Then I started sleeping with my BFF’s wife. The sex was crazy good, and we fucked everywhere. At one point, she gave me a blowjob at a funeral! My wife caught us and divorced my ass. I’ve since realized I have lost any sense of right and wrong, and I’m completely sober! WTF!
How can I tell this story (or don’t?) if I am lucky enough to find love again and that person doesn’t run? I would.
Dear Beyond Repair,
Meth doesn’t help decision making. I think it literally drills holes in that part of the brain. If you love again, I wouldn’t lead with this story. But if I were that lucky swooning lady, I’d want to know.
Before you start posting the dick pics, may I suggest that you work on finding a sense of right and wrong. After using from a young age, we can find our history tainted with crap we did while high, or in order to get high. Rarely pretty.
I’m glad you’re sober. This makes the repair easier. But there is still needed repair. Receiving head at a funeral was risky—that raised the heart rate a little, right? That’s transferring your meth rush to a good ol’ fashioned adrenaline rush. Disappointing? Just don’t start spinning in circles to get dizzy anytime soon.
You talk about using like it was the glory days. It’s not. Nor does it define you. It has probably affected the relationship with your kids. And a prospective girlfriend will notice your interaction with your children. AND it’s also really cool to have a good relationship with your offspring.
Your goal isn’t to be clean, it’s to enjoy life while not destroying others’. How? My friends who have not died or gone to prison due to drug use—the ones who came out the other side—found something to be passionate about. Literally. Find something (not someone) to love. So my advice is get a fucking hobby.