Just another day at the office
I write for all of that. I also write for myself. I did not have a standard childhood and standard relationships. I did not/was not taught or allowed to learn, proper boundaries. I have had to figure that all out by myself.
But sometimes things that seem so horrific to an outsider, are, to me, "Just another day at the office". A good example is the other day, with Ron, at the bank.
I thought it was pretty bad, but, all things considered, it wasn't that far outside the norm for Ron. There's always that little worm of doubt. "Am I overreacting?" Ron would have said yes. My readers said no. I need to hear that.
I have, in some ways, a very difficult life. Things have changed for me, but it's still hard.
I sit in my chair and chronicle Ron's slow slide into oblivion, one broken tooth, one blackout, one more case of vodka (thanks, Chuck), at a time. I know how this will end if God doesn't rapture us soon.
It ends with him dead, having killed himself. It is sad, the man who gave me so many lectures about "Not pissing God off and wrecking the BMW he gave you", slowly erodes his own health and well-being, one sip of vodka at a time.
I would hate to see his liver numbers.
And the really sad thing, when Ron truly realizes what he has done, he will be so horrified. But it'll be too late.