Post by โฎ๐๐๐๐๐โฎ on Sept 30, 2023 2:50:50 GMT -5
I shivered as I sat on the hotel bed swimming in my own sweat and shaking like I had a cold. My whole body ached, probably payback for avoiding the physical pain of my matches with drugs, that or it was just be trying to be stone cold sober, either way it fucking sucked. I tried to close my eyes and go to my happy place but my happy place was a drug induced land where I didnโt have to feel any of this bull. For once I was actually giving this a shot without the intention of it backfiring. Honestly, I wondered why the hell I was putting myself through this. I could easily keep living my life because while everyone seemed to know I was a druggie no one had any actual proof. Big thanks for people who sell their pee. However, someone I gain a conscious and now of all time I decided was the time to get my life together. You'd think this type of stuff would happen after losing my championship but eh guess not.
I had to have picked my phone up a million time and sat it back down thinking about how one quick text and all the problems would be gone. Poof, one pill or bump or anything and I would be swimming in the clouds and busting out amazing hit pieces on BRADDOCK. However, here I was wrestling with myself instead.
I moaned and fell back into the bed shaking worse than BRADDOCKโs butt plug when he revs the engine on his beat up old piece of shit truck. I closed my eyes trying to gather my thoughts but most of them had to do with drugs or the fact I wished I was dead. I felt like I was pretty much already halfway there but there was something motivating me to keep going through this bull crap. Maybe it was the thought that I could actually make something of myself and prove everyone wrong. If I could get clean it would be the biggest FU to everyone out there who said I couldnโt do it, who said I wasnโt anything but a waste of space. If I could make it to that light at the end of the tunnel, and Iโm not talking about the sweet kiss from the grim reaper, it would mean I could literally make it through anything. Above all else this would be the hardest fight Iโd be in so anything anyone else had to throw at me would just be mediocre at best.
Another chill wrapped me tightly in its less than thrilling embrace and I pulled the covers over my head. Then, the realization hit me. If this is how I felt after only 24 hours of no drugs then I was going to be on deaths doorstep by the time my match rolled around. Granted, Iโm not the sharpest tool in the shed but I still have a few living brain cells. There was no way in hell I could quit this stuff cold turkey and be able to wrestle. I needed those drugs if I was going to stay champion. I didn't know how to function properly and my body definitely didn't know what it was doing without them.
Then again all this rambling could just be the sobriety kicking in and my addiction trying to wrap me in that sweet warm embrace. Who knew? Definitely not me.
I pulled the covers down over my head and grabbed my phone laying next to me. The screen lit up and the banging in my head felt like I pulled a Kurt Cobain. POW, brain dead. God I wish. I let out a low moan and turned the brightness down before scrolling. I needed this sobriety to stop, I needed this pain to stop, I needed to think clearly because Iโd be damned if I let BRAD jockstrap win against me.
And so I made one little text and one little decision, after throwing up my guts of course because apparently not only was I in so much pain I also got up to fast and everything came up really quick with me. Iโd get high, get some sleep, and get out of this hell I was putting myself through. Sobriety wasnโt happening overnight, well I mean it kinda did but the type of sobriety I was looking for wasnโt happening overnight. I decided for now I would start weening myself off everything so I could actually stand the withdraw and not completely screw over everything I didnโt try very hard to get. I'd take things slow and drink more water and go to the gym more. Staying busy would keep my mind off the drugs and sweating it out would help me get one step closer to being sober.
Ha, who the fuck am I kiding? This is probably going to backfire in so many ways but hey, worth a try?
After a few magical little pills and some beautiful white pixie dust I was up and on my way to neverland. Actually, I was just on my to the gym.
"BRADDOCK, you're a fucking bone head. Where do I even begin with your bullshit? If Asylum pays you to be in their stupid stable they really must be pathetic. Besides, what the fuck do they even pay you for? Have you helped them win matches? No, in fact, they barely are in matches but that's besides the point. I would pay a hobo to look out for me before I'd pay you anything considering you're a rambling drunk who hears shit that wasn't said."
"Not ONCE did I say one thing about you being on hard drugs you dumb fuck. Sounds like you might have a guilty conscious. Apparently whatever you used to use has completely fried your brain like an egg in a pan. Instead of those stupid this is your brain on drugs commercials they should just show kids one of your interviews. Hell, watching them makes even me want to quit everything and go on the straight and narrow. Which just so you know you admitted on television you do a substance that is illegal in all 50 states, you moron."
"You make just as many accusations as me but the difference is I'm not sitting on my couch talking with someone telling them they were true. You on the other hand told your brother that literally everything I accused you of was true. The sun rising tomorrow is a fact not a fucking accusation. Do you see the parallel I'm trying to make or do I need to spell it out for your pea brain BRADDOCK. And this is the guy who holds the championship above all championships here? This is the best OCW can do? That's depressing, give the fucking championship back to Synn at least she had the wit and smarts to be a champion."
"If you ask Trent I'm the farthest thing from a prude, in fact, he would say I'm OCW's resedent porn star if you ask him. Yes baby, I'm giving you a few more minutes." I blow a kiss toward the camera. "You're welcome. And as for saying sex was bad again, I never said that. I said you had a need for sex and cash, in other words those are the only things you think about. Opp, sorry, I should probably say care about instead of think about because you've already proven youโre mentally impaired and can't fucking process a single thought. Your real life actually has quite a bit to do with our match and your career as a wrestler in general. If all you give a shit about is money, girls, and beer then where does that leave wrestling? Where does that leave the championship? No wonder you are so in awe of the fact you won the championship, at this point I am too."
"Let me explain to you why your "real life" matters since apparently you can't grasp anything logical. Since you are so proud of being a drunk, let's start with how beer can affect your career. First of all there's low blood sugar, pass out in the middle of the ring and I won't give a shit if it's a medical emergency or not I'm going to pin you. Dehydration, you need water and fluid in order to help build muscles which is also why Carbs are so important when trying to build muscle, almost as important as protein. Drowsiness, sure you can workout through a hangover but you aren't giving your best. And before you say "nah cunt, that ain't me. The fucking drunken gods smiled down on me and I'm the Thor of drunks. BEER GIVE ME BIG MUSCLES." I would just like to say no, no it doesn't. Although all of these kinda make me think Zephyr was right and you might be hitting something other than the gym, a bong, and DMT. Sex, too much and it lowers testosterone, something you need to help build muscle and can even affect brain function. Shit, guess you don't need to worry about that one. Do I need to keep telling you facts or can I continue with my "accusations" now?"
"I think you got lucky, no wait, I know you got lucky. Shit even you know you got lucky, how many times have you said you can't believe you have the championship now? I'm pretty sure the only reason you became a wrestler is because you couldn't do anything else with your life. You didn't have a world of opportunity because obviously you weren't going to get a high paying job based on your knowledge. I'm pretty sure you're living out your glory days now as some form of a mid life crisis that came way past the mid life part. Oh, and my biggest accusation is that your run as the OCW world champion is going to come crashing down as soon as you have your first title match. I guess that one was more of prediction."
"You keep making the same mistakes over and over and not putting your focus where it should be. Now your focus is on all the people lining up for your championship. Hello, knock knock, anyone home? Did you not learn your lesson to focus on the task at hand? You admit yourself I'm a fucking badass but you're worried about possible future matches that may not even happen. I get it though, you don't give that much of a shit about winning this match since your championship isn't on the line, but is that really champion behavior? There I go ahead making assumptions. On rise I'm adding another mark in your loss column and I'm going to make you out to be the fraud champion you are. Then again you do that all on your own."
โSo, keep doing your little morning show interviews and drooling over interviewers in the back, taking hits at champions who have actually defended their championship, and riding the high of being more than some muscle brained dumbass. At the end of the day you and I got lucky the only difference is your luck is about to run out.โ
I had to have picked my phone up a million time and sat it back down thinking about how one quick text and all the problems would be gone. Poof, one pill or bump or anything and I would be swimming in the clouds and busting out amazing hit pieces on BRADDOCK. However, here I was wrestling with myself instead.
I moaned and fell back into the bed shaking worse than BRADDOCKโs butt plug when he revs the engine on his beat up old piece of shit truck. I closed my eyes trying to gather my thoughts but most of them had to do with drugs or the fact I wished I was dead. I felt like I was pretty much already halfway there but there was something motivating me to keep going through this bull crap. Maybe it was the thought that I could actually make something of myself and prove everyone wrong. If I could get clean it would be the biggest FU to everyone out there who said I couldnโt do it, who said I wasnโt anything but a waste of space. If I could make it to that light at the end of the tunnel, and Iโm not talking about the sweet kiss from the grim reaper, it would mean I could literally make it through anything. Above all else this would be the hardest fight Iโd be in so anything anyone else had to throw at me would just be mediocre at best.
Another chill wrapped me tightly in its less than thrilling embrace and I pulled the covers over my head. Then, the realization hit me. If this is how I felt after only 24 hours of no drugs then I was going to be on deaths doorstep by the time my match rolled around. Granted, Iโm not the sharpest tool in the shed but I still have a few living brain cells. There was no way in hell I could quit this stuff cold turkey and be able to wrestle. I needed those drugs if I was going to stay champion. I didn't know how to function properly and my body definitely didn't know what it was doing without them.
Then again all this rambling could just be the sobriety kicking in and my addiction trying to wrap me in that sweet warm embrace. Who knew? Definitely not me.
I pulled the covers down over my head and grabbed my phone laying next to me. The screen lit up and the banging in my head felt like I pulled a Kurt Cobain. POW, brain dead. God I wish. I let out a low moan and turned the brightness down before scrolling. I needed this sobriety to stop, I needed this pain to stop, I needed to think clearly because Iโd be damned if I let BRAD jockstrap win against me.
And so I made one little text and one little decision, after throwing up my guts of course because apparently not only was I in so much pain I also got up to fast and everything came up really quick with me. Iโd get high, get some sleep, and get out of this hell I was putting myself through. Sobriety wasnโt happening overnight, well I mean it kinda did but the type of sobriety I was looking for wasnโt happening overnight. I decided for now I would start weening myself off everything so I could actually stand the withdraw and not completely screw over everything I didnโt try very hard to get. I'd take things slow and drink more water and go to the gym more. Staying busy would keep my mind off the drugs and sweating it out would help me get one step closer to being sober.
Ha, who the fuck am I kiding? This is probably going to backfire in so many ways but hey, worth a try?
After a few magical little pills and some beautiful white pixie dust I was up and on my way to neverland. Actually, I was just on my to the gym.
"BRADDOCK, you're a fucking bone head. Where do I even begin with your bullshit? If Asylum pays you to be in their stupid stable they really must be pathetic. Besides, what the fuck do they even pay you for? Have you helped them win matches? No, in fact, they barely are in matches but that's besides the point. I would pay a hobo to look out for me before I'd pay you anything considering you're a rambling drunk who hears shit that wasn't said."
"Not ONCE did I say one thing about you being on hard drugs you dumb fuck. Sounds like you might have a guilty conscious. Apparently whatever you used to use has completely fried your brain like an egg in a pan. Instead of those stupid this is your brain on drugs commercials they should just show kids one of your interviews. Hell, watching them makes even me want to quit everything and go on the straight and narrow. Which just so you know you admitted on television you do a substance that is illegal in all 50 states, you moron."
"You make just as many accusations as me but the difference is I'm not sitting on my couch talking with someone telling them they were true. You on the other hand told your brother that literally everything I accused you of was true. The sun rising tomorrow is a fact not a fucking accusation. Do you see the parallel I'm trying to make or do I need to spell it out for your pea brain BRADDOCK. And this is the guy who holds the championship above all championships here? This is the best OCW can do? That's depressing, give the fucking championship back to Synn at least she had the wit and smarts to be a champion."
"If you ask Trent I'm the farthest thing from a prude, in fact, he would say I'm OCW's resedent porn star if you ask him. Yes baby, I'm giving you a few more minutes." I blow a kiss toward the camera. "You're welcome. And as for saying sex was bad again, I never said that. I said you had a need for sex and cash, in other words those are the only things you think about. Opp, sorry, I should probably say care about instead of think about because you've already proven youโre mentally impaired and can't fucking process a single thought. Your real life actually has quite a bit to do with our match and your career as a wrestler in general. If all you give a shit about is money, girls, and beer then where does that leave wrestling? Where does that leave the championship? No wonder you are so in awe of the fact you won the championship, at this point I am too."
"Let me explain to you why your "real life" matters since apparently you can't grasp anything logical. Since you are so proud of being a drunk, let's start with how beer can affect your career. First of all there's low blood sugar, pass out in the middle of the ring and I won't give a shit if it's a medical emergency or not I'm going to pin you. Dehydration, you need water and fluid in order to help build muscles which is also why Carbs are so important when trying to build muscle, almost as important as protein. Drowsiness, sure you can workout through a hangover but you aren't giving your best. And before you say "nah cunt, that ain't me. The fucking drunken gods smiled down on me and I'm the Thor of drunks. BEER GIVE ME BIG MUSCLES." I would just like to say no, no it doesn't. Although all of these kinda make me think Zephyr was right and you might be hitting something other than the gym, a bong, and DMT. Sex, too much and it lowers testosterone, something you need to help build muscle and can even affect brain function. Shit, guess you don't need to worry about that one. Do I need to keep telling you facts or can I continue with my "accusations" now?"
"I think you got lucky, no wait, I know you got lucky. Shit even you know you got lucky, how many times have you said you can't believe you have the championship now? I'm pretty sure the only reason you became a wrestler is because you couldn't do anything else with your life. You didn't have a world of opportunity because obviously you weren't going to get a high paying job based on your knowledge. I'm pretty sure you're living out your glory days now as some form of a mid life crisis that came way past the mid life part. Oh, and my biggest accusation is that your run as the OCW world champion is going to come crashing down as soon as you have your first title match. I guess that one was more of prediction."
"You keep making the same mistakes over and over and not putting your focus where it should be. Now your focus is on all the people lining up for your championship. Hello, knock knock, anyone home? Did you not learn your lesson to focus on the task at hand? You admit yourself I'm a fucking badass but you're worried about possible future matches that may not even happen. I get it though, you don't give that much of a shit about winning this match since your championship isn't on the line, but is that really champion behavior? There I go ahead making assumptions. On rise I'm adding another mark in your loss column and I'm going to make you out to be the fraud champion you are. Then again you do that all on your own."
โSo, keep doing your little morning show interviews and drooling over interviewers in the back, taking hits at champions who have actually defended their championship, and riding the high of being more than some muscle brained dumbass. At the end of the day you and I got lucky the only difference is your luck is about to run out.โ
