^^Shroomy, with that much time under your belt, perhaps you should give staying away a try. You've already gone through the worst of the acute withdrawal, and while the post acute phase is certainly no fun, you already have decent time served, and each day will bring you closer to physical equilibrium.If not, I'd say the best course of action just might be what I have been doing the last couple of years, though I wish I had had it in me to make a more serious attempt sooner than now (not serious, as I'm airways serious about it; but maybe a better way to put it would be, to have been able to build up and stockpile my drive and determination so that it would have stuck with me in previous attempts. This weekend I must be done.II'm finally more fed up than afraid...):When I realized this was the only way to a better life (and despite what you may tell yourself due to physical and emotional struggles, quitting *is* the key to a better existence that's smoother, with 99% less drama and struggle...), but I also knew I still wasnt quite where I needed to be due to fear (it's ALWAYS fear, babe...), I decided that that didn't mean I would not or could not make ANY progress....No. I decided that, yes, quitting was my end goal. Quitting was necessary. But not yet being free enough of the fear holding me back, I figured - correctly, too - that if fear and other worries were holding me back, then in the meantime I'd work on that.In the meantime, until I was ready as I could ever be to quit, I worked on that fear, I worked on all of my excuses, I worked on the things that WEREN'T excuses but in fact legitimate obstacles (ie, physical pain, anxiety, abusive husband whom I cannot control, and more). I brought myself to a far superior mental and emotional position so that when the time came to be done, I would have those enhanced coping mechanisms. I would have things to redirect my thoughts from sheer terror and fear to more soothing and REALISTIC things. This does not mean that I assumed to eliminate all obstacles. I cannot control the fact that my husband is severely abusive. I cannot change the fact that I was born with a connective tissue disorder and have been suffering with poor and sometimes life threatening health problems since birth. I cannot control that which is outside of my actions and thoughts. No. I don't typically pray for things to just go away so that I don't have to face them. Sometimes, sure. I'm only human. But the overwhelming majority of the time, I simply pray for:StrengthA different perspective that will be helpful to my goals.WisdomCourage to face that which I cannot avoidEtc.I pray "please, open my eyes. Give me the strength and the wisdom I need to get through what I have to get through..."Because for lasting results, for true overcoming vs merely trying to avoid, the way out is through. Through.THROUGH.And besides, I've never experienced feeling proud of myself for.... Avoiding a struggle, for tiptoeing around something troubling me, etc. No. But when I walk straight into my mess, head held high, even if my hands are shaking and my heart feels like it's going to be vomited up from my chest, I am PROUD. I am beautiful when I'm strong. I am satisfied when I'm strong. I am smiling when I'm strong. There is no way around it, Shroomy. You can eat or be eaten. The pain, misery, and suffering going on in all the corners of the world breaks my bleeding heart on a regular basis. I cry for people I've never met, never seen, never spoken to. Faceless, nameless. I don't care, I still pray for them. There are little girls and boys being sold - SOLD - into slavery and indentured servitude, who are "lucky" if "all" they suffer is a back breaking work load. More likely they'll be assaulted in all manners of ways. There are people chained up in basements that have no idea where they are, their spirits broken. Hopeless. Dreaming of the day they will be rescued. And then they die there, in a puddle of their own piss, in their own excrement. Alone. No hand to hold. No loving voice to whisper to then that they are so special, beautiful, loved, important, cherished, incredible, no one to gently rock them back and forth as they fight their exhaustion to stay awake because they think they heard "them" coming.... What will happen this time? They no longer even feel the indignity of their violation as out happens because they have left their body, they are spiritually clinging to a God that they wonder how this could be allowed to happen to them.... They don't cry anymore. There is no point. There is a dog somewhere, alone and chained up in the rain, snow, burning ruthless sun....nothing to eat ordrink, ribs clinging to matted hair in patches on sunken flesh. No one will ever show them love. They will lay down one day and the mercy of death that took way too long will finally scoop them up for desperately, painfully needed silence. No feeling the sick, starved body. Just nothing. Thank God. And why so long, God? Didn't you hear them pleading, what did they ever do to deserve this?I could go pin and on but I'm sure that's depressing and morbid and gut wrenching enough.Thank everything good in this twisted, horrible, unbearable, beautiful, precious, fragile, sick, loving, hateful, weary, excited, happy, despair fueled, full circle world that we aren't one of those poor souls.That we have a chance. That we have A CHOICEThat we are in touch with people who care. They have nothing to gain by cheering us on.....but they do it gladly, and with a heart filled with love even though they've not seen so much as your face.Thank everything soft and sweet and good in this 3d circus, that we have our minds. That we have hands, opposable thumbs, that we can choose our path to enough of an extent that there's always hope for us.Thank you, thank you, thank you Universe and the forces guiding it, thank you that I'm here, in an abusive marriage, that has given me black eyes and bloody nose, that has knocked me to the ground again and again in a row with a blow so hard I tumbled backwards. I got up. He hit me again. Thank you, thank you, that I am here, inn this sick body that hurts, that struggles to keep up, that had betrayed me with acne scars, weight gain and loss, time, age, pneumonia to the brink of death over and over. That is still beautiful. That wears its journey on the skin, in my eyes. In my eyes. Past the blue-green-grey, past the flecks of brown and gold you can only see up close. Deep in my eyes, you can see my pain, my morning, my deep grief, my losses, my despair, my everything. Thank you, thank you forthepain, that tells me I'M ALIVE, I HAVE CHOICES. Thank you body, thank you for surviving the molestation, the rapes, rapes, the beatings, the abandonments that carved my very soul out of me and left me empty, filed with nothingness, to be refilled by myself, by my need, by my need to live even when death was welcomed by me. Thank you life for being able to say I'm still here, and thank you for the crippling pain, the soul breaking despair, that has increased my compassion, to compel me to hold a stranger's hand just because I can and I want to, and thank you for the look in their eyes that says it means everything to them in that moment, that they will hold on. Life is hard, Shroomy, that much is true. No arguing. That's truth. But we have a choice in our suffering. That's so much more than so many others have. I'm so grateful. And I'm not giving up. And I'm not going to fail. And I'm not going to be a fucking statistic. Every time I'm swallowed by despair, I think of the many faceless tragedies that are holding on, in so much worse circumstances than me. I live for them, because that's what they want....to just live. I live for those I love. I live for ME. Because I matter, I mean something, and no one can do it for me. Because I'm here not by accident.Because I can live. Because I can choose. Because I can overcome. Because my tears and pleas aren't enough to prevent me from reaching, striving, surviving, thriving.Never forget that you have a choice, and that perspective matters so much. Never forget how fortunate you are, even just for indoor plumbing. Never forget that you can make someone's day. Save a life. Never forget that out can be your day, your life. Never think there's anything glamorous in suffering. There isn't. Never forget to thank everything good that you aren't one of those nameless, faceless people with no options. No choice. No say. No control. You aren't. It's a choice. It's certainly not an easy one. But it is simple.Be well. Peace.
this is my only source of income (besides stealing)on the first of the month...its $220 And i use that for Black (BlackTarHeroin ..thats all we get in California but shits amazing ..ive got two guys from Philly who say its nothing compared to the H back east) ..oh yeah soooooooo im trying to reply to people but i cant send multiple messages .. ANYWAYS that 220 cash should hold me down from today Thursday until about Sunday ...im gonna buy a gram at 6 am in about 2 hours ...also im getting really skinny again smh i chase the high so much i forget to eat ..i catch about 1 meal at the shelter ..i dont do uppers i hate meth and cavi(crack)...i talked to my kids mom and she said once i learn to love my son we will get back together. ...which is nearly impossible she lives out in LA county which is about a 45 minute drive and even if she came to me i wouldnt know where to go im pretty much banned from her house...im a pretty handsome guy (not tryna toot my own horn)but i can get plenty of girls but its her i want...my high school sweetheart...she has no idea i relapsed. Everyone was so proud of me and now i never felt so low.. ive been on Heroin since Oct 31st 2015 when i was drunk and a fake ass friend kept insisting i try it.i did.and i loved it. I started slamming about 2 months ago (I CAN BARELY HIT MYSELF SMH) and i have great veins i always have my friends hit me..anyways they wake us up over here at 6 ..the food here is really good believe it or not..actually the food is amazing...im thinking of calling my mom and asking her if i can go back home...my family loves me very much and they know im pretty new to heroin but now that im slamming $20 bags im so in Love with it...i used to slam $5 so i wouldnt overdose but now i hope i die believe it or not...im just lieing in my bunk bed with aboout 50 other sleeping men lol i got exactly 2 hours to go until i can go withdrawl the money from Ralphs..im just grateful i dont have to go steal shit and then take it to my buyers...i will have the next 3 days off ....oh ive been reading this book called WASTED by Mark Johson its an amazing book about H,Crack,and booze...its similar to Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis which is actually my favorite book...anyways i went to bed at 10 woke up around 230 and was just on my new phone on the internet wondering what website to go on when i remembered Bluelight lol im gonna try and sleep .sorry if this post buggs anyone i know it has nothing to do with WDs but i just cant reply to all the messages BL is making me wait 1 hour fucking assholes lol ..hoping your all doing good ..Goodnight everyone ill check in tonight because they have wifi here ..stay up.
