we'll sit and sing a song of what we did wrong

This is going to be kind of a long one and kind of a tough one. So bear with me for a moment. There are a few things on my mind that I just want to get out, so the first half is some old shit and the second is some new shit.

It seems that I cannot escape the reality that I used to be an active user and then an actively recovering addict and now I’m just Megan. Saturday night I had a table of girls and I walk up to the table and recognized someone I used to see at meetings. I said “Hi Rosy!” very excitedly-she didn’t recognize me at first which was understandable. But then she ordered a drink and my heart just sank. I couldn’t say no because one, she’s a big girl and can make her own choices and two, I’m not going to sit around refusing to serve alcohol to people-that’s not my responsibility. Well, as I was dropping off the drink she said that she remembered me. And I guess I kind of wish that she hadn’t. I think it would have made things easier.

And today I sat in history class next to this boy that I used to see at the Denville meeting (my home-group) all the time. And we were just chatting and he said that he was thinking about me the other day because the anniversary meeting was coming up for the group was coming up. I got this knot in my stomach because I was selected as one of two speakers at the last anniversary meeting. And I almost felt homesick and I almost want to go back just to say hi and be in that atmosphere again.

I feel like something is missing when I think about going to meetings. It was such a big part of my life for such a long time that it is still hard, to this day to separate myself from it when people bring up people I once knew and called my family.

I know I could go back if I wanted to, the doors are always open. But at the same time I do not think I need what they have to offer me anymore. I think I miss the 24 hour support group and I miss having people that could identify with any situation I was going through. But I do not miss the bullshit and the trash talk and the whispers behind my back that comes along with the meetings. And I do not do not do not want to see him. Never, ever, again.

And the crazy thing is that as I was driving home from class today with all of these thoughts about this old life of mine running crazy in my head-every single song that came on reminded me of him. It was either one that I heard a lot when we first got together, or one he introduced me to.

Life with him was not healthy. It was a sick and bitter relationship based on one-upping each other. I knew from the beginning that it was bad news; and I did not like me, I did not like me and him and I am pretty sure that no one else liked me and him either. And that is what it came down to. But I was blinded by something I thought was good and right and meant happiness-when it really only brought me pain in every aspect and relationship of my life.

So I know that I cannot go back there because I cannot face him. And there are people that I would love to make amends to but I am too afraid of him and what he might do to confront any of them. And that, my friend, is truly sad.
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Now for entry two
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Remember when 9.11 happened and we sat together watching in horror, or when we first began bombing the middle east and again we sat together watching the explosions through the night vision camera footage streaming in and we sat there satisfied that some action was being taken and we cheered for American justice and revenge. Then we started hunting Osama and ended up with Saddam but it was ok because it was a great evil leader and it boosted moral and it was two points for America.

America sat together as one, hand in hand watching the horrors unfold. But we were unified and we cheered on our boys overseas, we put stickers on our cars, we started organizations like adoptasoldier to make certain that none were left alone over there.
Do you know what the number six means to me? It means the number of times, in a three hour period, that 9.11 was dropped on TV last night.

But despite that sense of community and togetherness and despite how we came together to cheer on our troops and to take pride in our country the number zero represents the number of “support our troop” magnets I’ve seen in the past week. Those magnets popped up like a widespread disease and now they are gone-all of them; because America has moved on and forgotten about our boys.

9.11 is now just a term to grab attention. That date is thrown around by politicians for widespread political clout, because even though it seems like America at large has -forgotten the consequences of that date-no one wants to be that guy that is against something when that horrifying day is brought up.

I guess this is all coming up now because Kyle is being deployed again. So is James and so is my cousin Paul-and it is too much for me to handle. The war I do not agree with but I support the men and women over there doing their job-and that is what it is, a job. I don’t mind if America at large wants to say Bush is an idiot or that the war is unnecessary, because I agree whole-heartedly with that. But when these soldiers are still being sent over support, even seven years later, should still be prominent. I think it is disgusting how easily people forget and how quickly casualties turn into another tally on the score sheet of death and how easily people will pass over this number: 4,052 which represent the number of confirmed US deaths from the Iraq war alone. I don’t understand how anyone can look at that number, and then look the other way and take a magnet off their car. I just don’t understand how people could stop caring.

I have not stopped caring once, and I won’t until they all come home. Every single one of them.