Truth Hurts

Truth Hurts.

Oftentimes it’s coubteracted with a attack on the person who says the truth about the person’s issue. This especially comes into play if it is one about an addiction of any kind.

My name is Dustin, and my addiction is Soda.

For most of my adult years I would wake up in the morning, and at the first opportunity, would find the largest, coldest container of soda, oftentimes the worst variety.

I would use the excuse that my medication made me groggy, so I would NEED it to be normal.

Instead, it is extremely important that I DON’T have soda with my medicine.

Over the last 11 months, when I wasn’t medicating , it enhanced the symptoms to the point others took notice.

They called it to my attention several times, Today I’m proud to say I haven’t missed a dose of my medication in a little over a month.

Yet I was Still hitting the sauce.

I’ve heard the dangers, the addict in me kicked in and made excuses. 

I would get instantly mad at my parents as they would being it to my attention when I would consume it in front of them. Being immature the discussion would end in arguments that sometimes ended with hurtful words being said. 

I now know that they said it because they love me and don’t want to bury me before their time in this life is over.

Yet I just hid it.

A few months ago, the program that provides me services daily lost their fleet in a flash flood. After utilizing rental vans for over a month, we were given a new fleet. As such a firm no eating or drinking policy was enforced and violators would be subject to disciplinary action 

Not wanting to lose a major source of transportation, I started limiting my consumption during work hours, however it would increase during my alone time.

Recently, I needed to use an ATM  on the way to somewhere, I use a convenience store near my employer because it’s doesn’t have a surcharge. While not riding in a van, I asked to stop so that I could get money although I was planning to get a drink.

I went in, the line was three deep for the ATM.

I went to get a fountain drink. I was planning to visit the ATM to get change. There was still people in line, so I got in line to checkout my drink with plans to visit the ATM after my purchase.

I didn’t.

The person driving me to my destination knew me well. The first thing out of their month was.

 “You have a problem with pop.”

 The fight reflex wanted to kick in, and I calmly explained what I have been doing doing over the last few months.

But they knew. 

They said they see me, they said nothing else.

I know that this person was having a rough day, so I let it go. 

I blocked the thought until I was riding alone again.

My feelings came in play. It was gym day and I was scheduled for drop off there.

I wanted to go home and have a pity party. However I knew I needed the gym.

I remained silent until I got there.

I went in and changed into my workout clothing.

I warned up, did a set of strength training.

I wanted to leave, but I didn’t I did my cardio, I kept going.

And thinking. Maybe this person said what they said for a reason.

Maybe because they’ve experience those with addictive personalities.

Or simply, like my family, they care ❤.

So while im I’m on the treadmill, I’m having a epiphany.

People aren’t saying I have a problem because they don’t like me.

It’s because they care. 

I’ve tried to give up many times, and it isn’t pretty.

I would say that I’ve cut back, but it to a healthy level.

When I attempt to go at it cold Turkey, I can’t stick with it.

I know I have to get there, put the thought in my mind.

For I know it’s the best thing for me.

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