I live with a crack addict
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Tapping the arm of my chair. Where to begin, where to end.
I think I'll make this an atypically short entry. I can't decide if I'd like to try to sum it up in a big entry or ten little entries. Or drip it out in drops and snippets.
The grim, displeasing truth is that I've discovered that I am living with someone who became addicted to crack cocaine.
In seeking to discern what I want to share there are so many open ended questions where I've yet to decide how much I ignored. Could I easily have put all the bits together sooner. Most likely.
For now I'll simply state the ugly bald fact. For a few months I've been living with a crack addict. Unwittingly I've been buying a moment's worthless ecstasy for another person. A person who retreated into lies.
I need to decide my stance. How much was I a willing patsy, a chump. What degree of innocence can I assert. Somewhere in between how much responsibility should I take as a co-conspirator in someone else's degradation.
Real questions: na´ve, foolish, ignorant, willingly blind, unknowingly fooled. My questions are more about myself than him.
I'm not sure how much of this I should, will describe. Knowing me, eventually all of it.
You need to establish a vantage before you tell a story.