Delusions of Addiction

Truth and lies

2006-04-23T23:08:00.000-07:00

I managed to make it home, but truth be told I‘m not sure if I wanted to… There was more than one bus, more than one vehicle that looked suitable for jumping out in front of. I have realized more than I thought that I would while keeping track of my thoughts. One is that I am not a good person; two is that I am on a path of self-destruction that my middle-class suburbia family doesn’t understand. They will never understand that it doesn’t take a shitty childhood with abuse, of any kind, to create an addict. They will never realize that just because I have brains doesn’t always mean that I want to use them. I spent most of my life dying to fit in with any of the kids at school. I never did. I don’t want to be someone’s poster child or letter of example. These are my choices, drugs did not ruin me, they ensnared me, there is a difference. To often I see or hear people complain that drugs destroyed their lives, what a cop-out that is. We make the choices, drugs don’t. By blaming drugs, we are just often putting blame onto something other than ourselves. (This is a society thing right now, it’s everyone else’s fault, it’s the experiences in my life’s fault) When are we going to stand up and take responsibility for the things that we do and the people that we hurt with our choices? I know that I’ve made bad or wrong choices, but they were/are my choices. Now I am forced to make a choice I never wanted to, my family or my lifestyle… I understand that it’s hard to watch someone be an addict, but is giving him or her an ultimatum really the best option? Clean up or else? I hate to tell the ‘preacher’s’ of the world, but whoever gives me the ultimatum is the one who loses… at least in most life decisions. Giving up your family isn’t easy, though neither is giving up an addiction. Most sober people would say that there isn’t even a question as to what to give up, but it isn’t that easy for an addict. We never, and I do mean never get rid of our addiction, it is always there in the back of our minds even when it isn’t right in front of us. Just ask any smoker, you always crave that habit, that addiction when you get stressed, or when things in life go wrong. Granted acquiring powders is a little bit trickier than going to the store and picking up a pack of smokes, but it can still be done… The point of all this, I sit here with a mirror in front of me, a few rails lined up, wondering if tomorrow will be any different.

crashing

2006-04-22T21:13:00.000-07:00

I stood looking dumbfounded at the door, which had just shut silently behind her… I was shaking, my heart was pounding and I simply couldn’t breath. I was dieing… Why did it have to be like that? Why did it have to be all or nothing? My eyes slid across the room, falling on the shattered mirror… Thank god I hadn’t cut up the lines I was going to before the knock at the door. I had lost so much, but at least I could still get high and my body screamed to get high. I went to the bathroom and took down one of my make-up bags. I pulled out my compact, got a screwdriver and hammer, broke the mirror out of its case (cases just cause build up, I prefer my mirror as just that, a mirror), walked back to my couch broke up everything I had left (figure about a half gram or so) lined it up in five neat rails, picked up the phone and called my dealer (if I was gonna do this, I was gonna need more), hung up the phone, leaned over and inhaled, again and again and again and again and again… Until it was all gone. (Yes, I licked the mirror and blade) I sat back and let her fingers slide into my soul. She ensnared my heart as it began to pound, the rush of blood through my veins echoing in my ears. The moments before forgotten, as she wrapped me in her arms, entangling my senses and ensnaring my soul. I’m not quite sure what happened next, whether the phone or the doorbell rang first. I wiped my tear-stained cheeks, straightened up, yelled hang on and sat back down. I attempted the second time, grabbing the phone and answering it as I stood up. At the door I found one of my favorite girls, all dressed up and no one to go out with… On the phone my dad… I don’t remember the words, but I know that it’s all my fault and that I’m stupid and irresponsible, I also know he loves me and can’t understand why I do the things I do. He cried, I died again… I hung up the phone, looked at my girl and said let’s go. She asked if we could step inside, I said most certainly. She whipped out her pipe and we smoked ourselves into an increasing stupor. I asked if we could stop by my dealer’s as we put on our coats, she said yeah…as long as I shared, we both laughed, like that wasn’t going to happen… We got to my dealer’s and we got high again, have I mentioned that at this point I had about a gram surging through me? We headed for the club, I’m glad I wasn’t driving, the tracers where intense off the lights of the world. She threw a cigarette pack at me and told me to light a joint…I didn’t need telling twice. I remember getting to the club, I remember my first couple of drinks and dancing and lights and music and faces, lots of faces… I remember leaving the club, I remember the party after, I remember the sun rising, the eight ball snug in my purse, the boys were being generous and who could pass up generous… I remember stumbling home, the world buzzing with life around me. Me greasy from days of not showering, hiding behind sunglasses tinted as dark as the moonless night sky… The sun hurt, hurt everything, I just wanted to get home…

remembering can be painful

2006-04-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

I know it was about five o'clock when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find my mother (of all people) standing in front me. I panicked, the mess behind me was proof of the life that I lead... The words spoken are irrelevant, but the pain was unbearable. She was worried when I didn’t come home and now she knew the reason why. I fucked up and she cried, it was her heart that broke…not mine. She begged me to see reason, begged me to see what the choices that I have been making were doing to me. She actually thanked God (her god not mine) that she didn’t have to see me everyday. Then she screamed and raged at me, her disappointment and pity etched on her face. The words that fell from her lips clawed their way under my skin slowly eating away at my already exhausted mind (I’d been up for…well for awhile anyway). She told me to pack my stuff as she whipped the mirror from the table and shattered it against the wall. (we were in the apartment, door closed) I raged back, told her to get out told her it was my life, told her I was sorry, but this was who I was… I made a mistake… And that was it, no more, no less. She looked into my soul, livid with my truths entangled in the lies… My eyes pleading with her to accept my words, my heart broke as she picked up her purse. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she stood up and walked to the door. She couldn’t control me, only love me and she couldn’t watch me do what I was doing… I can’t go home unless I’m clean…no excuses, no exceptions…

I think I died

2006-04-20T19:15:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a few days, but the last one was rather disturbing... I think... I don't really remember anything. A close friend of mine has a key to my place and apparently found me unconcious lying in the middle of the bathroom floor. After checking my pulse, determining I was not dead, shaking me into conciousness, putting me in bed and watching over me for the last oh I don't know (she just left a bit ago) how long (and yes she woke me up in intervals), I sit here wrapped in a blanket shivering but concious, at least for the moment. I have a cup of steaming chicken broth beside my computer (I don't think I can handle anything else as it hurts to breath due to the amount of retching I apparently did) and a hot cup of tea. I sat on the bottom of the shower for awhile and just let the scalding water wash over me as it filled the bathtub. I was freezing the whole time. I remember today, in bits and pieces and yes, I've smoked a few joints but truth be told I don't think anything else can cure my nausea. My head feels like someone has stuck a railroad spike in it (Mind you, yes, they used a malet to pound it in good and tight) Everything aches and I just feel off... I wonder if I think hard enough I can figure out what happend, but that may have to wait...

not feeling better

2006-04-18T20:45:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed how stupid one can be? I mean how stupid and idiotic do you have to be to forget Easter? To forget about your family? The truth is I was stupid enough to get high on Friday and forgot to come down... As a matter of fact I haven't decided whether or not coming down is such a good idea. I mean once a drug addict always a drug addict right? I might as well justo plunge back into the world I'm trying (yes, I am trying) to leave behind. The truth is I struggle everyday, every time the world gets rough, everytime I'm bored all I really want to do is get high. People say that drug addicts can't break away from drugs by themselves. I'm begining to see some truth behind what I thought was madness. I know that millions of people in this worldfunction without drugs. I just don't seem to be one of those people. Even when I'm not high on powders, I smoke weed or go out for a drink (or ten). I realize that I have an addictive personality - a personality that is prone to become addicted to things like drugs, alcohol, even people. I've spent the past weeks trying to log what I do to see if anything I do makes sense, if the way I think makes sense...

feeling an eighth of an inch high

2006-04-17T19:39:00.000-07:00

My mom couldn't hide the dissapointment in her voice when I called... It broke my heart as she almost whispered in moments and in others forced cheerfulness to the surface. I have managed to single handedly put a damper on her holiday. (I don't do Christian holidays if I can help it, though I humor my parents and my siblings by making them at least a way to get together) I did the only thing I could do when I got off the phone, I did another line...

who said it could be easter?

2006-04-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

I realize that I've been a bit out of it recently, but who said that it could be Easter? I forgot just doesn't seem like it's going to be a good enough excuse as to why I didn't go home this weekend and I know that "I was high" isn't going to work either. I may have officially just broken my mother's heart and I was almost to high to notice. Actually if it wasn't for one of the people I was with who has kids I wouldn't have known until it was to late. At least this way I can at least call...

I love adventures

2006-04-15T21:10:00.000-07:00

So I have about six people surrounding me. Some are drinking (not loud and obnoxious, just havin a few), some are smokin bud, some are smokin powders, some are doin rails. Actually we're almost all doing all of the above, but it leads to great conversation and a rather large slumber party. (minus the slumber) Today we spent time by the lake for awhile (I'd say swimming, but where I live you don't want any of your toes in the water at this time of year. There may be water, but the ice isn't gone yet. One thing I don't understand: Why people, men inparticular, must throw things onto the floating ice chunck (it's usually one chuncks (or the one large one, depending on time of year, stage of thaw and of course how many others have previously attempted this sport; everyone's gotta get lucky once in a while right?) in a vain attempt to break it? But hey as long as it occupies them (and it does, oh trust me it does). We went for a walk after up the shore line. I love where I live, nature is so in your face no matter where you are. (No I'm not tellin you where it is then you might come here, like it, stay and eventually it will be too big, it almost is) We've been hangin at the apartment watchin movies and obsucure television programs. In moments I am part of the group around me and yet in times like this I prefer to make excuses (hey I do have projects to do) to be seperate from them. It enables me to sit back and just watch.. the expressions of their faces as they talk, the twitches that are unique to only them...

adventure looms

2006-04-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

I'm off on an adventure for the weekend and thought that I would drop a quick note in case I get sucked in. I've realised many things and one is that I may never not be addicted to being high. I like being high. I like the way it makes me feel, well at least when I'm high. I like being high with my friends, on almost anything. For some reason I am an addict, a semi-responsible, but an addict none the less. One must take note at this point that only the insane or addicted would start a weekend adventure at this time of night... It's a good things I'm both

contraversial ramblings

2006-04-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

I tend to over think everything. I'm also a bit paranoid. (hey, even when I'm not high thank you very much). Due to my overthinking, (which goes especially haywire on days when I don't sleep) I tend to come up with some rather bizzare ways of looking at the world. For example, Monogomy... (something I'm not a real big fan of) When did society come to the conclusion that human beings are supposed to find everything their looking for in one person? Isn't that just a bit unrealistic? I don't even have one close friend, I have four. They say that drugs chip away at our inhabitions, if that's the case why do we have those inhabitions in the first place? I guess maye it's better put - Are we a better society for "building in" the inhabitions that we inevitably are going to want to chip away at? Does society play a more beneath the surface, besides the in your face, role than we want to acknowledge much less accept? All this leads me back to where those inhabitions come from in the first place. This leads me to another contraversial topic, religion. Don't get me wrong, I think that believing in some type of morals and values is essential to existing in the world. I just think that religion has been skewed away from what it was originally ment to be. Why? Power. Power over each other, and not just physical power. Emotional power. The power to control the ways that people think, believe and feel. Look at Catholicism for example. They took Pagan beliefs and incorporated them into their own in order to gain control over the common folk of the time (mind you I once found pagan described as the religion of the common folk). Catholicism (the birthplace of most, if not all modern Christian religion) changed more than just the belief's of the people it touched. It changed the way that entire races and even the sexes were viewed. I think religion, at least Christianity, has done more harm than help where human inhabitions are concerned. Sex (hey look, I rolled around to Mahnogamy again... well sorta) is a good example. In many Pagan belief systems, sexual acts were seen as something to be celebrated. In many Christian belief systems, sexual acts are seen as evil or being of the darker side of life. It hasn't been until the last say ten - twenty years that the taboo that sexual acts are not to be spoken of, or are shameful has started to change. So what does all this have to do with the fact that I've been up for way to long? Well, I was raised in the Catholic religion. I'm not trying to deny my own free will, but I think that some of the inhabitions and insecurities that I attempt to drown out, come out of the things that I was taught (whether inadverently or not) as a child. Ultimatley we are responsible for the way that we choose to believe and the things that we do. I question though "our" ability to seperate the whispers of the past...

hurting all over

2006-04-11T20:55:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a day where you wake up and just hurt? Just achy hurt, all over? I woke up like that this morning. I thought stretching might help, no go. Surley a hot shower would make it all go away, or not. I thought caffiene might help, nope. Muscle relaxors weren't even affective. It sucked, so I smoked a few bats, in a desperate hope that I would not just feel like a bigger puddle of mush than I already did. This was definitely not the brightest thing I have ever done, though it did give me the munchies, so I remembered to eat. Yeah, go me. I was rummaging around in my purse when I felt a small bag with something hard in it. I forgot that I had stashed it in the back pocket. I got warm fuzzies just looking at it. I couldn't help it, I knew it would fix me and it did. I went to school, I went to work and I'm getting ready to do homework. I feel like I live a semi-normal life, well with the exception that I stopped by my dealer's today...

little old ladies

2006-04-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

Could someone please tell me who filled this world with little old ladies in big hats and way to much perfume? I really want to know the answer. I continued through the night into the day, with only a shower as a semi wake-up. I went to school in a half daze and then to work at four. This is where the issue came in. This short, rather round, old lady in a big hat with obnoxious flowers on it (also obnoxiously big) came into the department. I let her look around a bit, inhaled all the clean air I could and went over to ask if I could help. (I was really hoping she was just looking, she wasn't) She replied while pulling a catalogue out of her purse (which was also overly large) "I want this spread, everything, do you have it in stock? I was attempting not to pass out as she waved the pages under my nose circulating the already sickningly sweet air that was around her. I looked (I prayed we didn't have it) and hey one thing went my way, we didn't have it. She looked at me with puppy dog eyes and inquired if I could order it for her. (Did I really want to? No, but something tells me that's what I get paid for) I walked over to the counter and started the ordering process on the computer. She had issues with me ordering it on the computer, can I do it over the phone so they get it right? Sure, no problem. When I order it could I make sure that they get it right, because they got it wrong last time. I found the one thing even more obnoxious then her perfume, her breath. I finally got it all finished, then I asked her how she would like to pay. She reached into the depths of her bag pulling out a bulging wallet. Opening it up she had to go through each credit card and discuss how much she could put on each one, then she fiddled with her checks. At this point she started going into social security and retierment. I swear to God that I heard her life story and more. I smiled (you know that I'm really tired and I wish you'd just leave me alone smile) swipped the card she finally decided on and sent her on her way. Her smell lingured in the department for the rest of the shift... I'm glad I'm home smoking some weed, where the smells are normal.

Sunday...

2006-04-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

I do believe that according to the Christians Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. If that is the theory I want to know why I rarely get to actually rest on Sunday? I rarely get to sleep, even in the earliest of the morning hours. (I'm not stupid, I know it's the drugs) I went on a walk today, it was actually warm enough that I wore only my sweatshirt. Yeah! I love the woods, it's so peaceful. I know this is going to sound strange, but I love to tweak outside. (Yeah I know that it's bright but that's why sunglasses were invented.) At night, during the day, who cares as long as there is fresh air involved. It did us both (my friend is hiding from the world with me) good, though when we finally arrived home a spell ago, we got high again. Something tells me that it could be a very long Monday...

The begining

2006-04-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

The day didn't stay as peaceful as it could have. A friend showed up about six in tears. I'd like to say it was something as simple as a fallout with her man, but family is much more ocmplicated. Mother's are much more complicated to be specific. As the words fell from her lips, her blue eyes glistened in the light, tears forming and flowing out of her control. I did the only thing I could do, I listened quietly while rolling a joint. I finally interupted her long enough to tell her to light it. (Pot soothes the nerves and I hoped it would help calm her down) As we smoked her puffy eyes started to sag, so I turned on the tv and grabbed the quilt off the back of the couch. We talked for awile (she did most of it hashing and rehashing the words that had been spoken). Her voice growing quieter with evey second. I looked over and she slept... I covered her up and went to the kitchen to make myself a little something. When she awoke she looked at me with a sly smile and asked if I wanted to take a trip and help her forget... I couldn't let her go by herself, there's no telling where her emotions would take her and besides it's the weekend... She pulled a pipe from her bag, sat cross-legged on the floor, pulled out a baggie full of rock, pulled out a piece, put it in the pipe and lit up. When she offered it to me all I could think of was the horid taste that I would soon have in my mouth and how I would so much prefer to just deal with the slide that goes down the back of your throat after a line. Oh well, the trip was free...

a normal moment

2006-04-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

I feel normal. This is weird for me because I've felt different my entire life. I was sitting outside, people passed me by, smiling as they went. I was looking at the sky, it's big. Where I live the sky, even in town, is filled with stars. Every once in a while I get lucky and witness the Goddess in her majesty as she dances across the night sky. Constantly changing her patterns and colors, she offers us a taste of her hidden beauty... Maybe there are messages hidden in her dances, then again maybe I'm thinking to much...so much for normal.

Another long day

2006-04-06T00:24:00.000-07:00

I slept and slept and slept after I got home Tuesday night. Have you ever been driving down the road and all of a sudden there are three roads in front of you? So, you pick the one in the middle as the actual road and just pray that you don't collide with anything until you reach your destination. All I can say is that I'm really glad the drive home is fairly short. I am also completley convinced that my car, not only, can drive itself, but that it knows the way home... this is good. Today was a not so bad day after I peeled myself from the sheets and slithered to the shower. The hot water running over me helped me to shed the layer of life that had built up on my body over the weekend. I realize it's half way through the week and that Friday is just around the corner, but everyone has to have those weekends where they kinda meld into the begining of the week. It's just that it happens to me, seemingly, more often than to other people. Lots of things seem to happen to me more often than they happen to other people... I wonder why that is... Oh well, it's a good thing that nothing suprises me anymore.

a short note

2006-04-04T12:26:00.000-07:00

I don't know how I'm going to make it thru the day... I just woke up, I missed class and work is on the horizon. I have dug myself a hole and once again all I want to do is curl up in it and die...

I didn't mean to

2006-04-03T20:33:00.000-07:00

I lied, but I didn't mean to... Well I guess it wasn't a lie per say, but my Monday thru Friday responsibility is faltering. I still haven't managed to get any sleep, but I have managed to catch up on all of my homework. I thought that this was a major accomplishment. Hey, I'm even ahead in a few areas. It's nice, a bit of stress relieved. I did make it to class today and I don't work until tommorow around four. I figure if I eventually find a bit of sleep tonight I should be ok.

sleep, what is sleep?

2006-04-02T21:46:00.000-07:00

I've learned recently that fate is a cruel and fickle creature. I did not intend to slip, intend being the operative word. I haven't seen the backs of my eyelids for quite a spell. The funny part is I've been rather quiet in the things I've been doing. I rearranged my room (it requires cleaning, so I'll spare you the details), did my homework, stared aimlessly at the computer screen for awhile which has led me here. All this time I've been thinking about the way my life turned out. I never intended to be the addict that I am. I guess you could consider this a testamonial of sorts. I know what I am everyday that I look in the mirror. I am not blind, but (as there usually is with addicts) I have the freedom and the ability to make this choice. I pay my bills, I don't have kids, I go to school, I take care of myself (more Monday thru Thursday versus Friday through Sunday) I survive just fine in this world of madness. Hey, I did surf the net for awhile this evening and believe it or not I found a few interesting sites that deal with drugs that are neutral, yet informative (I figure hey if I'm going to enjoy them I might as well know as much about them as possible). No, the truth is I was boppin around Columbia University's web site (don't ask) and I found this page. While it does contain info on drugs, it also contains all sorts of Q and A about all sorts of different topics, including things from man boobs to statutory rape. It's weird the things one finds when they aren't looking.

still going

2006-04-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

As much as I like sleep, I hate it at the same time. I think it's something left over from my childhood. My mother always tells me that attempting to get me to sleep was always a war of sorts. This was do (and still is) to the fact that I didn't want to miss anything. It didn't (and still doesn't) matter what was happening I needed to know. Now don't go getting the idea that I'm a nosy neighbor. I couldn't give a shit what people outside my world are doing, it's the one's inside my world that intrigue me. I don't like people, people suck (well, their ok in small doses). I hate to say it, but rambling seems to be the thing to do at the moment as I haven't yet slept...

a calling

2006-04-01T00:20:00.000-08:00

Another day another dollar, as the old saying goes. No school, just work. I would like to say that I'm heading for a relaxing weekend (what's left of it), but adventure calls...it always does...

a thought

2006-03-31T10:58:00.000-08:00

I like sleep. It's rejuvenating and not just for the body either it's good for the soul too. Just thought you ought to know....

ramblings of sobriety

2006-03-30T20:47:00.000-08:00

I had what most would consider a normal day. I woke up, went to school and work, came home, ate dinner and am now doing homework. I hate normal. The truth is all this sobriety is a bit overwhelming. I'm not accustomed to it and I don't know that I want to become accustomed to it. I have looked at where my drugs come from, but here's the deal - it's not like addicts are all going to stop using, so what difference does it make if one addict quits? Those who choose to manufacture such creations are still going to do it. Kids are still going to grow up in crime ridden neighborhoods, in houses with addicted parents. The world we live in sucks plain and simple. It sucked when our parents gave it to us, it sucked when their parents gave it to them. My point is (yes I have one) It's no wonder there are so many of us in the world with addictions, even legal ones. My brain hurts. I've been thinking like this all day. I think I'll just smoke a little bud and wander to bed...

Fact (and a little naivity)

2006-03-29T12:39:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure I understand addiction and all the info that goes with it. I was reading an article at the doctor's office that dealt with the manufacturing and ingredients of meth. (I think I need to do research.) Growing up I swore that I would never put anything into my body if I wasn't aware of it's ingrediants. That went to hell in a handbasket. I had no clue of all the different shit that was used to cook up a batch of meth. My own naivity shows through here. I mean I always knew that it was bad for you, I always knew that it wasn't "society approved", but what the hell? I feel really stupid, how could I have not known that maufacturers of meth sometimes cook this shit up in the trunks of old cars, or in their basements with their kids upstairs (Hello, highly explosive) I guess it just never occured to me to look at where my drugs were coming from...

recovery

2006-03-28T08:14:00.000-08:00

I didn't actually manage to get the license plate number of the truck that ran me over as I slept. I slept long and hard though in the dungeon that is my room. I woke up yesturday with just enough time to make it to class, even though my skull felt like it was splitting open. Thank God I didn't have to work! I oozed back into my apartment (I had become a puddle sometime throughout the day) and seeped into my couch. I didn't turn on the light, I didn't turn on the tv, I didn't do anything, but slip into a delicious state of unconciousness. I woke up sometime in the night with my stomach trying to eat it's way out of my body. I blinded myself with the kitchen light as I turned it on and rummaged through the cabinet in search of soda crackers and hey, bonus for me, I even found juice of the orange variety in the fridge (When had I bought that?). I settled into the couch and zoned on an old Audrey Hepburn flick My Fair Lady. Bast curled up in my lap. I don't know when I dosed off, but I woke up a bit ago, still hungary. So, I guess I'll leave you and wander to school, they have food.