I Fear I May Be A Bleeding Heart

UPDATE: A semi-not really-friend-who got my blog address from a mutual friend just called me to let me know that I'm a "johnny come lately" to this show. Evidently, I'm a complete reality tv tard and should give up my Tivo. After listening to her rather insulting rant, I told her that I'd nominated her for the show. She got all flustered and asked under what addiction could I possibly nominate her. I told her that I told them she was addicted to porn and neglected her children for her computer because of it (her husband is a deacon at their church). All I got after that was a click. Of course I would never do such a thing, but excuse me lady, I don't need your commentary on my viewing habits or otherwise. I guess I'm going to hell for that one.

I'm beginning to think I'm becoming, sadly, a bleeding heart. Shit, shit, shit! Why, you ask, would I fear this happening? Is it because something has rocked me to my very core and caused a shift in my values? No. I'm convinced it is because of one thing: Intervention. Have you seen this train wreck? It's a show on A&E. Here's how they describe it:


Intervention™ is a powerful and gripping television series in which people confront their darkest demons and seek a route to redemption. The Intervention Television series profiles people whose dependence on drugs and alcohol or other compulsive behavior has brought them to a point of personal crisis and estranged them from their friends and loved ones. Each Intervention episode ends with a surprise intervention that is staged by the family and friends of the alcohol of drug addict, and which is conducted by one of four Intervention specialists: Jeff VanVonderen, Candy Finningan, Ken Seeley and Tara Fields.


Here's how I described it to my dad yesterday on the phone: Hey Daddy, have you seen that show Intervention on A&E? It's a show that chronicles people addicted to drugs, alcohol, gambling, porn, eating disorders, you name it. The subjects agree to be in a documentary about addiction, and so cameras follow them around filming them doing the despicable deeds they do for their addiction. Then it profiles the loved ones in their lives and how they enable the addiction and the effects on their lives as well. They all meet with an intervention specialist and then ambush the bad seed fuck up of their family with an intervention. You gotta watch it!


Now, it NEVER FAILS that I bawl my eyes out every show. I fucking hate that it gets to me. There is always a back story of why otherwise promising individuals turn into raving crackheads. It's always the "poor me, my parents divorced when I was-insert age here" or " my father didn't love me" or other bullshit like that. Now come on people! I had quite an unstable and somewhat difficult childhood, but I can never remember a time where drugs alcohol, promiscuity, etc. had any allure to me. Shit, I didn't even really drink until college, and even then it was only about 2 semesters of partying. Yet these sad sacks suck me in with their tales of woe and mistreatment. It always breaks me up to see the parents and grandparents, brothers and sisters, whoever when they talk about how they've lost their fuck up family member to some kind of addiction. I am endlessly appalled by the things these people do to feed their addiction. They lie, cheat, steal, prostitute themselves, lose their children , and generally abuse themselves and everyone around them. What the hell? And I still cry for these people. I just can't fathom having an addiction that would cause me to go against everything I know is right and just piss my life away to get the next score. It really just doesn't compute. My brother had a drug problem. Thank God he realized it and got help. My estranged mother lost custody of us kids due to drugs and neglect. To this day, I don't even feel bad about not giving either one of them a pass for their behavior. I can't think of one good excuse from them that would fly with me. But when I see these people on TV, I just want to hug them. I want to fix it for them. I want to gather them up and put them on a fluffy cloud surrounded by rainbows and butterflies. I almost want to say that I understand why they chose to fuck up their life and take their families down with them. I don't normally have any sympathy for dumbass alcoholic drug-addicted prostitutes with eating disorders. To be brutally honest, I mostly feel disgusted that they waste their lives away and blame everyone else for their asinine choices. I'm a firm believer that you are aware of the choices you make and their consequences, and it's either deal with reality or escape to fantasyland. Have I gone soft in my old age? Quick! Someone try to persuade me that socialized medicine is a good idea. Maybe that will shake me back to my regular self.





*Side note: Some of you have asked, and I appreciate it more than you know. Yes, I had the big interview today, but I don’t want to jinx it yet. Keep the good vibes going. I will find out the end of this week.