Miserable. I'm so sick of this. I know that my life has been ruined beyond repair, and it's really just not worth the effort and even if it is I am so depressed the odds are very much against me. I feel full of ideas, but too burnt out and fucked up to execute and get anything done. I didn't think I was going to make it to my 30th birthday. Odds are around 50/50 presently. I'd say. I wouldn't remember any of this as if life; life would just be a dream. In my case, a nightmare. I wouldn't remember the archive of suffering I have in my mind, because my body would have ceased to exist. I am not sure what happens but I am not convinced death is when I would wake up or escape anything. It is for sure not an escape and probably makes things worse when you intentionally do it, in terms of reincarnation. I could end up a slimy alien on a faraway planet in another galaxy where it just sucks and there isn't even grass or attractive foxes.
I think the way the energy might work, might be like a very powerful radiation of spirit. It is like all the inner negativity that has been building up to the point that a spirit has been driven mad by the isolated, skewed and pathetic version of reality that exists relative to what could have been. All escape routes checked and thoroughly blocked; quarantined, alone. Nobody even knows it would be a shock wave that would impact the universe in a powerful but brief way. Like a supernova, really, but scaled down and more ethereal; possibly undetectable by scientists.
A sudden death is said that more of your current condition carries on to the next life. That would mean it might not be an escape from drug addiction itself. it could even be seen in the physical laws the mathematics but it's just way too complicated to carry out something like that when the subatomic particles of the human body go about their interactions via the 4 fundamental forces of nature and there is presently no way of tracking where they go and possibly reform. Reason being, that if you try and observe a subatomic particle, the more precisely the observer knows its position the less likely he or she knows its location. The very act of observation changes everything about the way the mechanisms of this shit existence work.
This is one reason why I think there is a marginal hope, at least until my 30th birthday. For me, that's a milestone. I might find that in two weeks, my brain no longer feels dead and fried. It has been 3 weeks and I'm pretty much handicapped from the lethargy and depression. So I may as well see how I feel in a little bit, unless I run out of etizolam and I fucking need to grab weed again.
Fuck I fucking ruined my life I see the outcome I see it now. I'll leave a beautiful blonde corpse to cremate. I could have had it all, and I still could but there is no longer any structure to my life. I am a total burnout. I used to do stuff all the fuck day long. I'd work out like 3 intense routines a day (10k run, hour gym sesh) and smoke like 10 joints a day, in between cooking ridiculous amounts of food and reading, studying... I had the confidence to apply for jobs. I remember smiling a lot, like I was happy. Even if there were problems I was chill, I had my pot and I didn't use other drugs at the time.
Then I got a job after a year search, then I lost the job car girlfriend money and health from an injury a year later. Couldn't work anymore (I could now, the pain is... more manageable somehow). Couple years pass by, no more house, no more girl, I have nothing so I try heroin. I decide I don't like it. Go on vacation with my girl she gives me 1mg dilaudids. I still 2mg hydromorphone and have one of the best days of my life plus no back pain, the reason we got them so I wouldn't be in pain on vacation and since her family member was having health problems she just took 10 of them. 1 would get me high, 2 really high - totally functionally, seemingly happy, feeling like myself just a subtle high, and so pain free in was unbelievable.
Then I still had the gram of H stashed away so I started experimenting. That stuff was so strong for a new user. I'd sniff around 10mg and felt like several percs were hitting me all at once 15 minutes later but more physically relaxing but with that same mental stimulation, just felt more natural. Like it belonged there. My first gram lasted 6 months because I was smoking opium too, sniffing dilaudids, and blew through a few thousand percocets. Half a 5mg perc would get me high as fuck in the beginning. It wasn't just about the high. I had accomplished nothing in years due to the pain and it wasn't any better. A couple months after opiates (and benzos, same time period I got on those) I was back in university for a second degree and then I moved far the fuck away to a beautiful place to work. This was a wonderful time of my life.
Then everything started falling apart. A gram of heroin didn't last me so long anymore, and I could not go back to oxy's that I had got a script for as they were so weak they were like tylenol and I resented the oxy high compared to H. Not just that but the medical benefits of properly scaled out really high quality H were so much more powerful for me personally, and also more controllable dose wise. Well the benefits didn't last and now I wish I was dead to put me out of my deep sadness. My personal preference is H for sure, sniffed, fuck needles, sniffing H all those years did barely anything to my nose in comparison to anything I ever sniffed much less of. I like it because it meshes with my need for physical health, promoting exercise, enabling me to work, helping me be more social but it just doesn't last I get hooked and ruined. It even somehow makes me luckier. I function a lot better on it than oxy. Due to my tolerance (they could easily kill me now too, and almost have twice) I couldn't feel the oxy. Ever since then, my life has really been downhill and that was a while ago. The romance I had this summer when I was getting clean off H was a nice time of my life despite being in the worst withdrawals of my life. Without her, I never would have had the motivation to get out of bed that summer but we were together as much as we could be. Then the oxy relapses started like clockwork.
Everything goes back to normal for a while when I use, I mean I'm numb and euphoric and all but from the outside I was still myself even if I felt very different. People thought I was doing great. I got comments from so many people that I looked healthy and happy. I was anything but. It has to be heroin though for me. Oxy isn't enough to function I like to rail opiates. I couldn't function as a dilaudid addict either it has to be smack for me. It makes me so functional that it is almost magical, but I feel so good, that I just end up enjoying life to the max and busy getting money and dope but I lose sight of the long term picture, and mess myself with withdrawals.
I do not like this. I hate this time of my life to the point that I want to die. Maybe in 2 weeks I will feel better, but then I will be 2 weeks closer to 30 and I've told myself if I didn't see improvement before then that I may as well climb the cliffs at the cabin and jump hundreds of feet to the rocky creek below. Happy fuckin 30 average relations around the sun, let's see what next bullshit life has in store. Perhaps those intermediate states of reality before being born as a sewer rat might be like the heaviest possible dmt trip. It's my favourite drug barring addiction and 'narcotics'. Has a narcotic feel to it really, it is totally the psychedelic narcotic to me. I'm trying to be as healthy as possible so that I can pass in excellent condition. I owe it to myself.
