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2mgs buprnorphine IN around 8 am
400mgs cimetidine followed 30 mins later by 1 mg alpralozam.
Morning BL,
been sick for the past coule days but this morning im feeling better. started out with 400mgs cimetidine at ~6am then drove to work(1 cig), had to open at 7 am. Got here and took 1mg buprenorphine IN and 1.5mgs alpralozam (1mg sublingualed and .5 oral) feeling pretty good need a cig and some stims would be nice but hell at least ive got coffee
hope everyone is enjoying there morning too

update: just ran out of coffee and my GF isnt here yet to cover the front desk, im in desperate need of more coffee and a cig! she needs to hurry up..



Times and Routes of substance intake:
1mg Buprenorphine IN ~ 7 am
400mg cimetidine ~ 6 am
1.5mgs Alpralozam 7am-8am (.5mg Sublingual, .5mgs oral ~7am; .5mg sublingual ~ 7:30 am)
yafi. shis.

idktwtcu. igyamb. omp-b? ew, ypapitm. yatco. wattm. ujas.

istftwtltio. ldann. iikheot, tgwtwsn.

wtih. inttwiws. pini :\

-g
i wrote a letter to fucktwat, so i might as well write you your own letter instead of making fucktwat's letter take a more drastic turn. and since i am posting this in blogs instead of showing it to you, it might make following this whole saga easier to follow. tho i suppose to be entirely accurate, i need to write to vgoraz too. as the 3 of you all play parts in this...

tho i have to wonder how much you care about the other two. i know you are aware of the both of them, and know that they are why i go to seattle all the time. but do you know how tenuous our (me and you) relationship is at times? and how much the two other people in this saga affect my actions?

i don't know how you wouldn't be aware, it isn't like we haven't talked about these things before. and i am not exactly that great when it comes to lying. but i don't see how you could be aware of things and make no effort to change.

i quite enjoy how we both have our own lives. but sometimes i would like to do a little bit more with you. like the stuff you tell me to go to seattle if i want to do. i am kinda certain that other marriages don't have random people to do the things the spouse doesn't want to do. i don't know. i guess in some ways i have everything i want at the moment.

this letter is a lot harder to write than the one about fucktwat. i guess i am more used to being open with him and expressing myself. i sort of gave up doing that with you a long time ago. the conversations never really went anywhere, so i just stopped having them with you. it is true that this has played out time and time again. maybe you are viewing me with the same exacerbation that i view fucktwat. all i know is that stuff has been stagnant for awhile.

you are funny. i like how you can follow my line of thinking and know what i am trying to get at. it is extremely useful when we play a game like cranium or trivial pursuit. i find it amusing to go to your shows and watch your bands play. i find you atractive, even if you look slightly gay half the time ;) you definitely help when it comes to clothing shopping.

but i don't like how you never have anything nice to say about me. how we seem unable to talk about certain issues. i am sure you can write a bitter letter about me. it is why i think an outside party might be useful. someone to be there to mediate when we start talking about heated issues. so you don't get pissy and i don't cease talking.

some people talk about the gorilla in the room. i feel like we are constantly dodging a heard of elephants in the room. sometimes everything seems like an utter farce.

-------------------------------------

this is still unfinished. i really don't know if i will finish it. i am finding it surprisingly hard to write. i keep comparing what i am writing here to what i wrote about fucktwat. it is far easier to write about him. that bothers me. tho to be fair, i would maybe be able to get out a sentence if it came to trying to write a letter to vgoraz.
Ok. This is what happened to me today. I went to my dr and got my script for 120 norco, 60 soma, and 30 Zantac. I drove to the pharmacy that I usually use. I can only find one who will fill it so I am very nice and patient. They said it would be ready at 3pm. I said ok. I'm almost out out of gas. I'm bent over and in a lot of pain from the car ride dr visit ect... She says we are short handed and this is the best they can do and offered to give it back. I said no no!! I will figure something out. At this time it is 1pm. So I go home. I drive slowly and turn the air down to save gas. I clean the kitchen and by this time it is 2:45pm. I drive up there and it is not quite ready. I wait for 10 min patiently and sit in one of their chairs as it is killing me to stand. They say it's ready. I say I hope it doesn't cost more than $30. She says oh wait they didn't put it on insurance and it will be a few min. I say ok. Then the lady in the back says my insurance was terminated. They won't cover it. I freak the heck out. I have a full blown panic attack but I'm really good at hiding them because I have had them for over 15 years. I ask for the a number to call them. They say it's on the back of my insurance card. Well my hubbie lost it Friday when I went to the medical center down town to have a Mylogram. And I tell her this and she says there is nothing she can do. So I have a IPhone and look up the contact info online. I connect to my insurance company and they give me my members I'd and group number and phone number to my perscriptions drug plan. I ask for a paper and pen they give it to me and and I sit down to talk to them on the phone. Then the lady in the back who said my insurance was terminate says; get this, I'm sorry it didn't go through and I didn't have time to redo it. It went through this time. I busted out in a hysterical cry. I'm sobbing with my head down. Then I get to the counter and she says the medications are $39.00. I'm like I don't have that. They are always $30. She starts to walk back to see what she can do and then says, oh I'm sorry it's really $29.51. I'm still crying. Then when she cashes me out she doesn't give me my $.49 change and says sorry we are messing with you a lot today aren't we. She gives me my change and I said thank you and got in my car and balled. This week has been the worst.

Yesterday Rent a center came and took my kids mattresses, my car is about to be repo. And my husband yelled at me for going to the dr to get meds. He did not pay for them. He gives me he'll for taking the pills and smoking cigs. He tells me to get a job. I can barely walk and I filled for disability in April. He keeps saying you ain't going to get it. You don't need meds. You need a job. I love him but I'm about ready to leave him. I don't need that crap.
I read a post on BL and an anology popped in my head. I think it is a good discription to the process of opiate addiction. I came up with the concept in 5 min so to domes its probably flawed. But I think it sums up the way addiction starts and usually ends badly.




Opiates are like a immature rebel friend. You like your friend and think they are the best (honeymoon phase). You have lots of fun and think you can not get caught up in anything bad (denial). Then sometime soon you have fights with your friend and try to make up (high tolerance).Then one day your friend disappears (no more opiates), So what do you do when you cant find your friend? You miss them so much you go to the streets and do something really stupid like asking a out of uniform cop if they know where your friend is ( addiction w/ sourcing). Now your in jail hating your friend.
It went on like this for awhile. But by Fall my life was falling apart. Darrell's apartment got raided Josh went to jail and ended up on Drug Court. I had pawned everything I owned of value and had started stealing from my parents. I knew things where coming to a head and that the real consequences where very close. So I decided that it was time to end my life. Now I know that seems like a drastic solution but at the time I felt so hopeless I didnt want to live my life without heroin. I was too in love with her beauty to imagine life without her warm embrace. I also wanted to escape the shame of being outed to my family for what I am a junky. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had been awake for a day or two sick as hell. Around midnight the night before I decided I was ready to end it all I wrote a note to my family explaining my decisions why things had to be that way. I then waited for my mom to go to work stole one of her checks went and cashed it for 60 dollars.

I remember it was a sunny day probably 75 degrees outside so I let the sunroof down on my car as I drove downtown to meet the man. I remember the feeling of peace was amazing I was convinced that I was making the right decision. I thought the pain was over the running the stealing the shame the guilt all that shit was going to be washed away by a nice warm overdose. So I got the 3 bags and drove to a local subway that had a nice large parking lot that I figured I wouldnt be bothered in. I stared at the three bags for a few minutes as I thought about my life and how old I felt for 20. But I just couldnt do it all I could think about was the three times I could get high from those bags. But I knew I was fucked so I compromised shot two and would do the third if I still felt like going through with it once high. So I did the two bags got loaded felt better about life. I drove over to my boys house
It started at age 18 in my bedroom with three of my friends a needle and a tiny bag of heroin. I remember the belt around my arm tight, my whole body clenched with anticipation. I watched the needle intently as he clumsily found the vien and pushed off the shot. I remember waiting and thinking fuck nothings happ- then bam the most intense feeling of my life took hold I dont remember much else for a few hours I suppose I was hanging with my boys having the time of my life or maybe I was puking in the backyard, who fucking remembers?

I wasnt hooked from the first shot I didnt have good access and I was still having fun with phychadelics. So summer ended and I went off to college. It was a literal and metaphorical change in my life I kinda knew the fun was over. I was either gonna make it or fall flat on my face. At the time success was not a term I was familiar with I went crazy drank all the time took whatever opiates I could find. But it didnt feel like addiction to any one thing ecstacy or xanax were just as satisfying as opiates. School was not a priority I passed a couple classes just on pure intelligence but never took it seriosly.So at the end of my first semester I find heroin again. It started with a few runs to the city to hang out with this girl I knew. She was a full blown junkie and I loved the excitement of rolling to the ghetto 6 deep in my car the anticipation the fear at first I found the lifestyle way more addicting then the drug. But I was still living an hour from the city going to school so it wasnt an everyday thing yet. Well the second semester starts and everything in my life went to hell I lost all the people I thought where my friends. So I came home to Birmingham with a very fatalistic attitude I decided to dive head first into heroin.

This apartment was a shithole. Oh shit this darrel was a trip he got 20,000 dollars when he turned 18 and proceeded to blow it all in like 2 months. But he had his apartment paid for and grandparents to send him money. One of the dumbest people I have ever met in my life he lost 5,000 dollars fronting this black guy he didnt know for coke. Anyway we set up basecamp in his apartment turned it into a strait fucking shooting gallery. Ended up turning quite a few of my friends into junkies. Josh ended up being my partner in crime we had just met when I moved back to the city and started hanging with patrick and darrell. We hit it off fast we shared a similar attitude and personality. The next 4 months are a blur of junky politics and unrelenting crazyness.

Man at first it was all fun and games every run to the city an adventure every poke of the needle a chance to meet divinity chill for awhile then gradually come down go home eat sleep and repeat. Money quickly became a problem so me and josh formed a side fiendship we taxed the shit out of this darrel kid gave him cut up shit whatever we had to do to get ours. This went on for a couple months and physical addiction was creeping in. It was starting to dawn on me that heroin was consuming my life like no other drug ever had. I got scared so I told my parents I had a problem and went to rehab.

I had no idea how bad of a decision that was. I was niave I thought I was gonna go there get the cure then be able to continue on as if nothing happened. Instead I got a bunch of spiritual propaganda. I just cant stomach bullshit or the true believers who spew it. In those two weeks I realized I was fucked I wasnt in deep enough to quit, but I could see the cliff looming. It was too late to hit the brakes so I decided to hit the gas. I made the decision about 5 days into my 16 day stay that it was "farther up and further in" for me. So I made it my mission to meet and exchange numbers with every junkie there. I left with a pretty girl on my arm and a legit connection in my phone.

The next months are a blur of trips to the hood and shooting up in parking lots all over the city. Waiting for hours in the heat sick as shit farting burping feeling like death. Until that magic phone call "Come to the blue house" click. Immediatly refilled with life I would pull out of the parking lot and speed to whatever spot he told me. I also remember the nights laying awake in my room to sick to sleep watching shitty movies on HBO. Praying for a change cursing my hubris just wanting it all to end. .
When I was using (one word or both alcohol and drugs), I had every excuse in the world to continue that trend:

"My girlfriend upset me."
"My curfew was 8pm when I was a child."
"The sun is hot."
"I work hard."
"I deal with a lot of crap."
"I am depressed."
"Life sucks."
"Life rocks"
"I can't get over what I did."
"I'm an alcoholic, I am supposed to..."
"I'm a drug addict, I am supposed to..."
...and so on.

I had them all. The negative ones when I had to reinforce to myself that my life was the worst life out of 6 billion of us. The good ones when I had to reinforce myself into thinking "I am doing good, I know I can handle this when I am doing good."

In retrospect and with an increasingly clearer mind, it was all nonsense. It's all excuses. It's all reasons to justify my behavior. It was all drama I was using to create problems that did not exist. Yes, I am an alcoholic and drug addict, but that doesn't mean I had any problems that were not of my own making. My unclear and unconscious delusional mind made it seem as if I had impending doom around the corner at every stop. It was a wildfire burning on the parched plains of the North American mid-west.

I have been fortunate enough to hear teachers, counselors, professionals, and other sentient beings in my situation voice what has worked for them. Different philosophies but the same end result: sobriety. While I may have agreed or disagreed with what I heard at the time, today certain bits and pieces come back and fit exactly where they are supposed to. Just is the same when I read: I do not try to force comprehension of something I can't quite grasp. I know through my direct experience in the future this will align and make sense. This is my wisdom and not gathered over night.

When I woke up after a night spent at my hometown's dump of a bar, I sat up in bed with my mind out of control. A raging inferno containing thoughts of disappointment, shame, remorse, anger, sorrow, inferiority, brokenness, and despair. My mind kept bringing me back to, "I should just kill myself", as it has for years. Right then, the scenery in my mind changed. "If alcohol doesn't go, then I have to go." With that statement came with it the power to make a decision to stop destroying the very vessel that explores this beautiful life for me. I realized I had a choice, as I have had all these years, to make my life what I want it for me.

I have absolutely no power whatsoever in the world. What goes on around me, external of me, is the world existing in its' chaotic but perfected way. I have always known that I could not change or control the world, but I think I used because I knew I was powerless over the world. However, in this process, I forgot all about myself.

With my power to make decisions comes my power to stay sober. I am wise today because the wisdom I have gathered is being used in such a way to not make the mistakes of my past. I am free. I am me.

The truth exists with or without me. It needs no excuse, no manipulative story, nothing. It shines bright like the hot sun in the desert after the swirl of dust has settled. My excuses and my disrespect for the truth came through the delusions of my mind. From my mind stems all personal problems, for I do not have any true problems.
The paramedics were working on him but kept telling everyone to get out...I was just running around like i was in a dream not knowing what to do....finally they took him to the ambulance..I didnt evne seen him out the door, only once he was in there, and i climbed up to look in the window and saw his body strapped down......knowing but not knowing he was dead, still holding out hope, even though the EMTs were casually smoking a cigarette outside the ambulance waiting for the family to get in their cars for the ride to the hospital. I heard them say that they were bringing him to st. clares, which is not the closest hospital. When they said that, I knew, logically, that if there was any chance of helping him, they would rush him to the closest hospital, but I still was in a daze, still hoping, and i forced it out of my mind.

Then the cops told me I had to come with them.....that they were gonna have a detective come and interview me to see if i had a role in his death...so i left with them, with all my clothes, ipod, phone, stuff, (i was basically living there) left behind, they told me i could come back and get them later, not realizing that the family would never let me in the house agian...and they took me and held me in a cell for 3 hours by my self and I just was in there sobbing and screaming and praying, praying, praying....that he was alive, that he was ok, that it was gonna be alright......

finally they came and told me that they were charging me with tampering with evidence, that the detective didnt need to talk to me he just said to charge and release me. my dad came to pick me up and told me we were going to the hspital. i thought he meant to see steve. i closed my eyes and tried to sleep but when we got there it wasnt St Clares. then he told me we were there for me. I didnt understand. He told me steve was dead and i just broke down screaming in the parking lot. they had to drag me in, i couldnt even walk. worse than you see in the movies. they took me into the hospital and put me into a psychiatric evaluation room. i was there by myself just delirious with grief til they came and shot me up with ativan and haldol and put me to sleep...

at that point i couldnt wait to get back home and go see his family, find out when the funeral was, get my stuff, all that, but when i came home my family said that steves brother had came to the house, threw everything of mine that he recognized onto the front lawn, and cussed out my entire family and everyone in it, freaking out and screaming and everything youd expect...and then a neighbor we both knew came to my house and told me that steves family asked him to come and tell me that Im not welcome at the funeral, that there woudl be cops there checking names on the list of people who wasnt allowed so I shouldnt even bother to try and come.

his family knew my history, that i was a recovered addict, and whatever....so I guess the eaasiest thing for them to do, was to put blame on me, instead of admit that steve used drugs on his own free will and they were all fooled. They refused to belive that I didnt know nothing about it. they refused to believe that it could have been something he did BEFORE he ever even met me. Everyone just blames me, bnecause "steve would never do that." He hid it so fucking well that even confronted with direct evidence that he DID DO IT, they still cannot face the truth.

And now, on top of this all, 2 days after he died, Child Protective Services came to my door. Steves family called in a report on me that I am a drug addict, that theres drug and alcohol abuse going on in the present of the child, and god only knows what else they told them. Now theyre trying to take my kid away.

A day or 2 after that, when I wasnt home, a detective came to the door asking to talk to me. That they need to hear "my side of the story". I didnt talk to them, and got a lawyer who contacted them and I aint heard from them since. But I heard from that same neighbor who I ran into the other day, that theres an investigation into the death. That theyre trying to find out what "really" happened. His family is telling the cops that they believe that I shot him up with the drugs that killed him. That i was directly responsible for his death. Theyre telling everybody that this was his first time ever using, that I got him drugs and like, forced him to use with me, and shot him up. I know that aint true, but nobody else except Steve knows that, and hes gone. Im the only one who knows the truth. And the thing is, I know that theres no way to proove whether I did or did not do that--only 2 people was in that room that night, me, and him, and hes gone. Unless they had a secret video camera with a tape of it, they have no way to show that I did that. So I should be in the clear, you would think. But my lawyer told me that in NJ, the law is very, very vague and all encompassing in a situation of a overdose resulting in death. That anybody who "facilitates" the use of the drugs that killed the person can be held responsible. And facilitating can mean many, many things. say your friend buys the drugs, and he says hey, can you make my shot up for me, my hands are too shaky right now, so you prep his shot for him, pass it to him, and he shoots up himself, and dies, you still 'facilitated' the use of the drugs and can be charged. it can be applied to so many situations and stretched to fit however they want it to fit. the thing is, normally they wouldnt do that. normally someone dies from an OD and whoever is there is just whoever was there, they aint gonna go out of their way to try and find a way to nail them. but because his family is pushing so aggressively its a whole different story.

So for all I know, next time I hear a knock on the door it could be the cops with a warrant to lock me up. his family wants revenge. They are out for blood. they want to destroy me and what is left of my life. I aint just dealing with him being gone. Im dealing with the possibility of losing my kid and being charged with killing the man I loved more than my own fucking life itself. Its so fucking sick and twisted that I cant even understand. To lose the love of my life and then be told I am responsible for his death is just so beyond wrong.
You know I had been a dopehead for a long time and finally got my act together, was clean for like 3 years. Found this new guy, not Maliks "real" dad, but he treated malik like his own son all the same. He was my soul mate, no question. We found each other actually, because he was my neighbor. we started talking, chilling, became smoke buddies...and then we realized we were falling hard for each other. He was truly my dream guy, and I dont only say that looking back. i said it all the time when he was here too. we would always just stop and look at each other and say...its too good to be true. this must be a dream because we are just too lucky.

i was so happy to have a man who didnt have the same past as me with dope and opiates....everything was great....he told me he hated opiates and was known for being very against dope because back when he was 15 his best friend OD'd and died in his arms. everybody hwo was close with him knew that story and knew he would "never" do dope.

he was a commercial carpenter and he was doing demolition down in Seaside HEights after theh hurricane. his boss was screwing him over, workin him like a dog, no weekends, commuting like 8 hours a day, really shitty, everything was mad stressed, and we were really struggling trying to get thru it. never ever considered breaking up but it was just mad rough. and then one day he comes to me....about a week, week and a half max before his death...and he says...i have a confession. i did dope....and he made it sound like he had only just tried it at first. a guy at his job offered it to him, he did it, whatever......but in the days after that the whole story gradually came out. That he had been doing it here and there, on and off, for the past 2 years or so. that he didnt want to tell me because he didnt want to bring it around me and have me doing it, but that he felt like a hypocrite and didnt want to lie to me anymore.

I was fuckin devastated. i sobbed for hours. i could not believe it. i was so crushed because i knew that shit dont bring nothing but trouble, and i didnt want him to ever go thru the shit that i went thru with it. i knew it could only bring bad things into our life. I was just fucking...gutted....because he had came home high to me. I was a junkie! I didnt even see that shit! Why? He came home fucked up and nodded out in the middle of doing shit but I never, ever, in a million years EVER would have thought to even think he was on dope....because "Steve would never do that." It just wasnt even a possibility that could cross my mind. thats how much he had us all fooled.

finally after a few days of terrible depression and this feeling of just...doom...i decided...fuck it. he told me he didnt intend to stop, that he would keep doing it from time to time, but he didnt want me to worry, and i was just like...whatever. If hes gonna do it, at least I can do it with him so I make sure he is safe and not out driving around high with some assholes who would just let him take a charge for them or something. it was a horrible decision but at the time it seemed like the only thing to do. I felt like if I did it with him, he could see how bad it hurt ME to see HIM do it. like, a taste of his own medicine or some shit like that. the thinking dont make no sense to somebody outside but to me it made perfect sense somehow. I felt like the ball was already rolling. the time to stop him had already past--he had already did it. it was too late to talk him out of it, too late to do anything about that. what was done was done, so all i could do was go along for the ride.

i can still remember how we sat under his deck, smoking a bowl, when we came to the decision to do it together. I can still remember in my mind, I took a mental picture of it. And I said "I will remember this day. I will look back on this day someday as the day we took the step." The same way the first time I shot dope, i ,made a mental note, like "I will look back and remember this as the day it all started." And I thought, god forbid one of us ends up addicted again--but we wont let that happen. this is just a one time thing, just for fun, not a big deal, we will be careful and its no big thing. But i had this nagging doubt at the back of my mind that this day would be burned into my brain forever--as the day that I opened the door to pandoras box.

That week he had worked a full 7 days without a break and was due a fat check. but when he went to go pick it up, he texted me "somethings wrong". and I felt like something was wrong too, but it turned out, he only meant with the amount of the check. Instead of being 800 something, it was for 300 dollars. That to me was a sign that we shouldnt do it. i said maybe we should just say fuck it and wait til next weekend babe. but he was all like no it was already my plan to do it i dont want to wait i worked hard all weekend whatever whatever whatever.....so despite not even having enough money to get thru the rest of the week, he went thru with it.

Everytime we drank together, we always took shots together, never alone. Each round of shots was a toast. This time, we toasted, tapping our needles together...And his toast was...."To our new thing."

But that was the only time we ever did our 'new thing.'

The whole night felt so surreal. i never imagined i would be doing THAT with HIM, when it was something he had told me , at the beginning of our relationship, that he would leave me if I ever did it. (he later told me that was a empty threat, that he never could have left me, but the point was--i was 100% willing and ready to never touch it again because he was worth far more to me.)

I can still remember standing in his room, and this feeling of badness washing over me. I felt so strongly like....Maybe this is a bad idea. I told him we should just stop and not do any more and just go to bed and save it for another time. he said fuck that, I'm gettin wasted! and shit...I mean, the deed was done. We had already used that night. at that point i said fuck it too....not like I can go back now, so I guess theres nothing else to do but enjoy the night and nod with my baby.

We went to bed. in the morning, he was laying on his back, snoring, making this weird sound. i kept trying to roll him over to his side but he wouldnt budge, no matter what I did. but his snoring was keeping me awake. I couldnt sleep, so I wanted him to move. (I want to shoot myself in the head for my fucking horrible selfishness, I just wanted to sleep, in my sleep hazed fog never thinking that maybe that sound was because of something wrong.)

Finally he just rolled over onto his stomach with his face in the pillow. I fell asleep for maybe 20 minutes and woke up with a terrible feeling because I realized that I didnt hear him snoring anymore...but I didnt hear him breathing either.

I tried to wake him up and he wouldnt budge. I tried to turn him over and when I brought his face out from the pillow his lips were blue.....

I dont even want to continue it from there because its so fucking painful and I still keep getting the flashbacks of that morning, torturing me in the middle of the night, wherever I am, i cant get away. I tried to give him CPR but it didnt work. I was naked in bed with him and I was so crazy afraid that I just started screaming running thru the house with nothing but a pair of panties on screaming for his family to help and didnt even realize i had no clothes on.

His stepdad came and called 911, my phone was dead and could not dial.

Once his stepdad was doing CPR, I tried to throw all his shit away. I knew that he wanted me to have his back. I figured they would come, revive him, and then he would be like "what the fuck babe, you didnt throw the shit out? Come on, I thought you had my back! I thought I could count on you!" So since I couldnt do anything to help anything at that time, except get rid of shit, I did.

But his brother saw me do it. And by the way--when I screamed for help, his brother came running upstairs, and before knowing ANYTHING about ANYTHING at all, theonly thing he heard was "STEVE NEEDS HELP, QUICK!!!!" and his brother came up to me and screamed in my face "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM!?!?!?!?!?!?!" He had already decided that I did this to him before he even knew what "this" was.

So when the cops came and asked where the shit was at, his brother led them right to it and told them i tried to throw it out....His brother also asked me "what did you do , call 911 first or hide the drugs?" fucking piece of shit.
months away from turning 30. i hate the thought of it. it's meant to be this milestone birthday, but really im dredding it. i feel so incomplete. who am i? i don't really know. i'm not anyone who's proud of themselves. i'm just someone who's n this planet but i don't know why. i'm lost without a cause.

i'm a lost fucking cause. my own worst enemy. i manage to put on a fake smile and try to be happy most of the time, but then there's times like this where i just lay in bed exhausted. tired from the fake smiles and prtending to be happy when the raw truth is, i'm miserable as fuck.

i feel like a no one. maybe it's this expectation i put on myself to be someone, i don't nknow.

stuck in the same cycle. i'll feel miserable for a few days then get over it. back to pretending everything's great, insteadin of actually doing something different to try and make it a real happiness.

but really who the fuck wants to be with someone who doesn't even like themself? i mean, how can i expect anyone to like or fall in love with me, when i don't even love myself. you can't.

something has to change. i am so stuck. stuck in this endless and poinstless routine of going back and forth. it's the same old story yet i keep doing the same thing around and around. but here i am, turning 30 and no better off. am i stupid? am i just too damn stubborn? or maybe there's a part of me that enjoys being miserable. maybe there's a part of me that enjoys destroying my own happiness. can't be too happy for too long, that ain't right - be careful, you're happy, time to back off.

i'm a lost fucking cause. so god damn stuck. yet i don't have the fucking balls or belief to actually do something new, do something different. am i just a fucking pussy? a spoint little pussy.

agh i'm probably just being silly. feeling sorry for myself. boo hoo. i'll get over it. life goes on. tomorrow's another day. i'm a live, what more do i want?
Okay, have some more concerta. School went by fantastically w/ 68mg dosed, and took 108 mg an hour and a half ago. I'm feeling good %). I guess while they're available and harder drugs aren't I'll seize the opportunity for productivity =D.

I've been a lazy pile of shit for more than a month now so I'm going to start an exercise regime. I'm also quitting/cutting back on smoking weed so I can maintain any sort of motivation w/o using stims as a crutch. I'm still going to school regularly which is going very nicely. The class I'm taking right now is almost too easy, leaving me lots of time to catch up with my credits. As far as busy work school keeps me busy, and as far as exercising I'm starting today with walking/jogging a mile at least. I know it's only a mile, but for me right now it would kill me to jog even half of that.

Next week I'm meeting with a job placement agency through my school to get employed;I'm fucking excited. It's been forever since I've had an income, and since then I've become more rational and intelligence so I'll actually maintain some sort of financial state :o

Now I'm going to pretend somebody will actually end up reading my blog and post this son of a bitch 8(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iqMyEalm-JI

I had no idea this was Dio's last concert ever. I am in that crowd. This show was incredible. I wasnt aware the tour diddnt continue. I am speechless.
The solution to solving the riddle of this Paradox w/out a paradox and understanding it as a functioning concept within the Universe comes when an individual is able to combine the sight of the conscious mind with the silent voice of the unconscious mind. The sight offered gives the sub-conscious mind a glimpse into the actual world created by the Universe and gives it a chance to observe the various manifestations of balance that occur during everyday life. The silent voice offered by the sub-conscious allows its counterpart to more deeply connect with the Universe and shows it how to use the benefit of its sense of balance to the greatest benefit. When someone grasps this concept and applies it to the idea of a paradox, they will quickly see that everything in the Universe is nothing more than one giant paradox that is constantly being solved by another paradox thereby taking away that title.

The final functioning concept of the Universe is that of Chaos, the concept from which it was born when the storm of perfect molecular chaos was created for the Big Bang to happen. The difference in the chaos used by the Universe is that it is not the typical destructive chaos that most people think of when they hear the word. It is actually productive chaos that is still expanding outward from the initial creation of the Universe. The productive chaos of the Universe can also be witnessed by those with the equipment to see molecules and atoms which always are in a chaotic state. These two examples though are not to say that there is never destruction resulting from the chaos of the universe, because there often is to help maintain the balance that governs over the Universe. If things were only created and expanded upon in the Universe then it would likely collapse back in on itself due to a loss of balance and the manifestation of an unsolveable paradox that would somehow trigger the collapse. It was productive chaos that gave life to the Universe, so it would only be fitting for destructive chaos to be the thing to destroy it.

The Human Soul and Its Unbreakable Connection To The Universe

Now that the general paradigm of my view on souls has been discussed it is time to go deeper into the framework and explain more of the ins and outs of my model. The biggest thing that affects how I believe is the Universe and the things that make its concepts work. It is these concepts of the soul and Universe functionality that I begin to draw the links between the two. I will put forth my theory of how the Dark Energy of the Universe is also the same energy that makes up our soul, how the functioning concepts of the Universe also relate to an individuals soul, and the implications of the unbreakable link that exists between the Universe and our soul.

Though not very much is really known for sure about Dark energy, in physical cosmology and astronomy the hypothetical energy is thought to permeate all of space and tends to accelerate the expansion of the Universe. Keep in mind, that my views of Dark Energy being the same energy that makes up the soul are every bit as hypothetical as the concept of Dark Energy.However, I will attempt to logically link them together based on the things that we do know about them.

First, lets look at Dark Energy's role in the Universe. The Universe is the totality of known or supposed objects and phenomena throughout space;the cosmos;macrocosm(Dictionary.com). One idea of Dark Energy is that it goes completely through all of space, if this is such the case then it is already all around us and possibly passing through us, but I do not believe that is completely the case. But an individual cannot deny the many possible effects that may result from something as vast as Dark Energy. Some scientist even feel that Dark energy is the culprit behind the Universe continuing to expand. However, what does any of this have to do with the soul?

Another key connection at play, which has recently been mentioned in the news, is the Higgs Particle (aka the “God Particle”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God_particle#.22God_particle.22,. This molecule is considered responsible for the creation of matter and is the piece that exists in everything in the Universe. Our soul and connection to this particle can be witnessed in our ability to be consciousl aware of it and seek to further connect the two. Other objects do have this same particle, but it is our ability of awareness that connects it to our soul. Also, the way that our current understanding points of the Higgs Particle is that the Universe too will eventually die, providing the Ultimate irony thus the ultimate destruction of the Universe. It is our connection with this particle that represents our connection with the functioning concepts of the Universe.

The similarities between the Universe and the soul of man are easily apparent. The Universe is an example of the perfection of a creation, thus it must have some form of conscious and sub-conscious mind though it has risen far above the normal thoughts surrounding those terms. Though we are far from being perfect because mankind was also born because of Chaotic creation (science is still searching for the missing link till this day, but may find further answers in the Higgs Particle). It is these general concepts on which I base my own personal concept of the soul. Critiques welcome ^.^ As I plan to revise and refine this rough draft.
The Pieces and Concepts of The Soul and Its Connection To The Universe

A common idea in many religious/spiritual belief systems is that of the Soul. I do not have any one particular belief system that I have formed my own opinions of the Soul from. Instead I have taken aspects of many different ideas and added onto them,creating a concept of the Soul of my own.

To completely understand my take on the Soul it is important to first know that I consider myself an agnostic, constantly questioning and searching for the truth concerning the existence of a Higher Power. I do believe that there is something bigger than us out there. So far the biggest and closest thing to any kind of Higher Power I have come across is The Universe, so I base my beliefs of the Soul on concepts and ideas stemming from the Universe and the connections between the two.

The Human Soul Vs. the Souls of Other Creatures/Plants and Beliefs of the Soul That I Reject

Let me get some basic beliefs of the soul that I do and do not believe out of the way so that the focus can be on the Soul and The Universe. I believe that humans are unique and are the only creatures that have complete Souls. In the Christian belief, Gods angels do not even have a souls as they were not made in His image. I believe that the fact that God made us in His image, gave us a soul, and then added a divine spark to our soul to separate us even further from the other creatures on Earth who had souls, but lacked the divine spark to make their souls complete and directly linked to God. This also separated us further from the Angels who were probably the first to bear witness to the first death of a human and thus witness the first time that the divine spark that God gave humanity extinguish and disappear, possibly triggering the Angels initial questioning of God that eventually led to the fall of 1/3 of them. Keep in mind I am only using the Christian God as a reference point for defining the difference in the human soul vs. that of a plant or animal because it is a much more common and easily understood way to explain the concept. However, this concept holds true still with The Universe as the main source and origination of souls.

It is my view that the soul is not made up of conventional particles and atoms. Instead, it is made up of the hypothetical idea Dark Energy that defies any of our current systems to analyze particles, atoms, or energy.It is Dark Energy that is thought to be responsible for the continuing expansion of our universe. Our soul acts like a perpetual motion device, putting out more of this same energy than it could ever burn up, thus causing it to run forever. Maybe if we ever learn to create a perpetual motion device we can perhaps begin to understand the soul on a deeper level.

I feel that the argument that every human has a soul may not necessarily be true as well. My logic behind this comes from the concept of Dark Matter,which is a type of matter hypothesized to account for a large part of the total mass in the Universe. Dark matter is also known for causing anomalies within the Universe that cannot yet be explained. It is because of its ability to create unexplained anomalies in our Universe that we might end up with those people who can do seemingly heartless and soulless acts. If the Universe gives us our soul, then it would only be logical to assume that Dark Matter can cause anomalies within the human soul.

Now that I have explained the difference that I perceive exists between Humans and other creatures/plants we can advance onward into figuring out how important the soul really is. Remember that for the sake of my paradigm on the soul and for your understanding of that paradigm that the soul consists of still hypothetical Dark Energy which is thought to be directly intertwined with the continuing expansion of the Universe. It is also essential to remember that maybe not every human has a soul due to the influence of Dark Matter on the Universe and the anomalies that it is sometimes intended to account for.

The Universe and Its Functioning Concepts

First let me say that to comprehend ideas that will be presented later on, the reader must not regard the Universe as a dormant thing in any understanding of the word. We all know that the Universe is not dormant when it comes to supernovas exploding, comets blazing their trail, or other similar occurrences that happen all throughout space. However, the idea of dormancy that I am talking about concerns individuals and their dormancy to realize their place in the functioning concepts that allow the Universe (and everything within it) to even exist. Most people think that the happenings in the Universe are completely random and so are the situations that happen to humans. These people are simply asleep to the truth that the Universe is not random but functions on concepts of Balance, Paradox, and Chaos. They do not even realize their essential goal in these concepts and most choose to stay asleep.

A prevalent idea in not only religion/spirituality, but also the economy, and legal system is the concept of Balance. This is probably the most important functioning concept of the Universe because it keeps the other two concepts under control while they help keep the balance in check as well. A good illustration of the this is the yin-yang. It is evenly divided but within each half is a small circle of the opposing concept showing not only balance but the need to have checks along with the idea of balance. Balance can easily shift from one side to the next but the small circle of the opposite force acts like a lock to keep the balance from being able to shift in either direction. Society also incorporates the concept of balance in their interpretation of morality and what is considered good or evil. However, quite possibly the strongest proof for the Universes need and our own need for balance to function are embodied in the Sun and Moon and their control of day and night. Providing both a comfortable balance of day and night on Earth when other planets have no such luck shows how the Universe tries to show us the importance of our role in being the ultimate key to its balance and it being the ultimate key to our balance.

The Universe also continues to function because it is a Paradox without it being a Paradox. This functioning concept of being a contradiction yet not being a contradiction seems confusing at first at least on the surface of your mind. However, the key to understanding this functioning concept must be approached with the mindset of a Taoist. The Universe does not need to seek understanding as it already knows. Another good example of this concept can once again be found in the Bible. God the Father, Jesus the son, and the Holy Spirit are called the Holy Trinity and are considered to be 3 in 1, they are the same but it is also easy to notice that they are also very different which is just one quick example of Paradox w/out Paradox. Another example comes to mind when the Bible mentions that only the Father knows which day the world will end, odd considering the supposed nature of 3 in 1 that is the Holy Trinity.

Look at these paradox problems with the concept that humans are also 3 in 1. We have the Universal Consciousness, Consciousness, and our Sub-conscious that govern all aspects of our lives and are essentially the same thing. The Universal Consciousness knows and understands Paradox w/out paradox because it transcends the understanding of the conscious mind and sub-conscious mind. What information that our conscious and sub-conscious minds hold about comprehending this idea is incomplete when taken independently of one another and flawed when used together by those who do not know how to combine the strengths of the conscious mind with the strengths of the sub-conscious mind.


The Conscious mind can consciously relate to certain ideas such as balance but the sub-conscious mind lacks this idea on its own. When the sub-conscious mind does speak to the conscious mind it is typically when it is asleep and it does so in dreams. In this case it often speaks in riddles and symbolism and rarely provides straight forward enough answers to decipher any kind of logically balanced solution for the average population. However, the sub-conscious mind can do something that the conscious mind cannot, and that is speaking without speaking and thinking without thinking. Anytime that the conscious mind thinks or speaks it is processed by the brain, which is nothing more than a muscle. The thoughts to think and the thoughts to speak must first consciously be spoke and the brain told to do so. Even though it only takes a very miniscule amount of time for this process to be completed it still does not give the conscious mind the silent voice of the sub-conscious mind. The reason for the sub-consciousness being able to have a silent voice is because it is more closely linked to the Universe and does not have to process any thoughts or speech through a muscle such as the brain so the sub-conscious mind often gets information instantly from the Universe.
I was very suprised to see the site's co-owners announce a forthcoming sub-forum dedicated to rehab and sober living. One would probably think that it is a natural evolution and that it makes perfect sense. I beg to differ. Harm Reduction is the antithesis of the "Sober Living" mentality. I admit that I have no subjective experience with that whole mindset and way of life. Still, I have come close to it.

When I was released from prison I attended NA Meetings to assure my family members that I was not going to go apeshit. As those who have read my blog at length know, I became an addict as a result of medically prescribed opiates/opioids. Moreover, I was compelled to begin Opioid Substitution Therapy/Methadone Maintenence Treatment at a very young age. I became addicted at the age of 17, to morphine, and by 20 I was on Maintenence.

There have been points at which I also consumed illict substances, especially heroin, but for the most part it has been smoothe sailing as far as my addiction goes. Ironically, my experience with the American Justice System had to do with a relative's cocaine business and not my own usage.

I say all this as a means of full disclosure so that noone should think my views on rehab and "Sober Living" have anything to do with some personally traumatic experience.

I find that the whole "Sober Living" hyperbole is a crock of shit. I think that people- obviously- are not carbon copies of one another and that as such, it is impossible to implement a "one size fits all" method of dealing with addiction. The problem with "Sober Living" is that its proponents swear it is a cure all. It has a dismal success rate and comes all too close to a cult of personality revolving around whichever big kahuna is running the house.

Aaaah, "running the house," therein lies the largest problem; "Sober Living" is a huge moneymaker in what has become a huge boom industry. I resent bloodsuckers who profit off of the misery of others. If your life's work revolves around my life imploding I am not going to cotton to a fucken thing you have to say.

I realise that there is a significant segment of the population who sees nothing at all wrong with paying $300.00 an hour to sit in a plush chair and talk about bullshit for 45 minutes with a Psychoanalyst. Buying friendship has always struck me as a waste of time, energy and money. Yet others do not see it that way. For such people "Sober Living" might be just what the doctor ordered. Pay $5,000 a week to have someone stare at your pupils and interrogate you if you dare to return "home" at 8:07 PM instead of your 8PM curfew. No thanks.

Still, as long as such people do not try and impress their preferences upon me it is all good. Returning to Bluelight's decision...People that are gung ho for recovery cannot stomach alternative viewpoints on the subject of intelligent use of psychoactives, or ANY use of them. There are umpteenth sites in cyberspace catering to the quasi-Fascist tendencies of the whole "Sober Living" crowd. There are only a handful of sites however, that cater to intelligent consumers. In fact, most sites only focus on the using aspect, and not Harm Reduction at all. Bluelight is a one of a kind.

I think that the sub-forum we have already, devoted to healthy lifestyles, should suffice in that regard. Adding an entire sub-forum will attract a different type of member. I guess it sounds elitist but I just don't see the point and can only visualise negative results. Such people are already served.


So I'm about to write some really deep insightful blog post when my new neighbor decides it's time to rearrange all the shit he's got disbursed around his back porch.

It's after midnight and raining out.

Fucking guy. So inconsiderate.

Of course, I'm no model of upright citizenry either. I have pissed off my share of neighbors. I remember a girl I used to shoot heroin with once threw up over a balcony railing onto a patio table below... that people were getting ready to have dinner on.

We ended up getting friendly with those neighbors though, copping quite a bit of crack with them over a year or so. Once they revived me from an overdose by pulling me onto my feet and pounding on my chest. I don't even remember the guy's name... his girlfriend's name was Cheryl, which we thought was humorous because back then that's what they called the powder cocaine on the street in Baltimore. Cheryl.

Sigh.

Now I have my ducks all in a row and there will be no crack smoking with the nuts in the apartment below. Instead I will fear the confrontation they are pushing me into. I'll obsess over it until it happens and then I'll cringe with the awkward reality that is upsetting someone who doesn't give a fuck how uneasy I feel.

That's how my mind works without the solutions I need. And I'm not getting enough of any solution in my life right now. My actions are driving a wedge between me and God, and it's retarded. I fucking know better. What is wrong with me? Ha! I know what's wrong with me.
How much of your use is purely mechanical?

Rat/switch/reward/repeat?

How many of your substance excursions have resulted in life-changing events?

And how many of those big changes were for the better?


That’s a lot of questions for a blog which is supposed to be about me. They aren’t entirely rhetorical questions either. I’m not suggesting that you message me with drug-soaked ramblings or philosophising.


In fact, please don’t message me. I feel obliged to answer every message I get, and to do so with some substance (that is a play on words, I am not dealing – never have, never will) so I find texting and messaging kind of exhausting. Hence, I am not on Facebook and if I have any say in the matter, never will be. Way too much information out there. Makes me dizzy.


So then, what’s the point of this blog?


Good question. (Great, now I’m having a dialogue with myself... )


There is no shortage of text out there on the net, or in the big wide world at large – in fact, there’s more than any individual could possibly consume in a lifetime, or even multiple lifetimes. In fact, there’s more than anyone would really want to ‘consume’. If you tried, you would be very sick indeed.

Because...


There’s a lot of shit out there.


Yes, I know that is a rude and judgemental thing to say. And I know that I am now adding to the pile with this here blog thing.


But...


I may have something worth saying. Maybe. Time will tell.


There may be a big gap between entries in this here blog thing, and there’s a very real possibility that no one will ever read it, and that I will forget about it, like so many other projects that I’ve started and not finished.


So why do it?

(again with the self dialogue... I really should see someone – possibly a psychologist!)

Good question

(shut up already!!)


Well...


If I may borrow an analogy which has been used at least once before by at least one very wise person

(and if I may not borrow it, then I will steal it – for a good cause!)


Birds sing. I write.

That’s a very truncated version of the ... thing. Hopefully it makes some kind of sense.


Bye for now!


(Who am I talking to...?)
i am going to play this out writing and see how it goes, maybe you have a similar experience with a memory, and maybe this sort of thing could be of help.


my story bellow is one that has played through my mind many times, but i never thought about it that far.

perhaps writing similar nagging or epiphany type memories and urges out could help build a bigger picture. but while writing this here, not allowing myself to just let-it-flow out, i have forgotten another important seeming occurrence i had in mind.


~
i remember being hysterical after a nap or 9 or 10, maybe 9 but i was no less then 8 or 9, i remember in detail being kidnapped by someone in a yellow car with my sister. then waking up, and not feeling the fear of a kidnapping, but her dying in a yellow vehicle - i was crying out of control, left my bedroom and went into the living room where my mom was, asking her why, pleading for her to tell me why! why she never told me about my sister - i was so upset, and felt so betrayed, i felt covered in a led-blanket, so fuuurrriiiooous, but pouring tears and simply so obliterated by emotion i couldnt even lift my arms.


i need to bring this up to my mom again, she was trying hard to console me and was rather astounded and confused...so it seems she would recall this.

at 5-6 i was out of control in fear worried about using drugs, i have asked my parents if the remember this but they dont. i felt so assured, that if i ever did drugs or drink alcohol i was going to suffer something awful. that was a long night it seemed, a few hours of the most terrible seeming anticipation, and utter regret.
which i did feel many many times later for using, and certainly still do, but nothing like that - that was pure dread, so real as if i had agreed to do so already, and new of the consequences in a very extreme manner.
Let me try and put it in a metaphorical way, say I had been visiting a coffee shop for around about 9 years and then 6 years later someone else started visiting the same coffee shop and we didn't notice each other at all, then say I was given a job at this coffee shop and then started to notice this other visitor and thought he had potential to also have a job at the coffee shop so I actively encouraged him whilst I was still a member of staff at the coffee shop and relieved him of his doubts that the coffee shop was not in his natural language and that he could speak the language of the coffee shop fine. Then lets say that as I stepped down from the coffee shop staff but continued to visit the coffee shop as it was a nice coffee shop with a good atmosphere and this other guy became a staff member of the coffee shop.


Now imagine that after a year or more of conversing with this coffee shop staff member inside and outside the coffee shop, sometimes in an internet café too and built up some form of trust in him this man invited you to his house in another part of the country that you had no real knowledge of the locations of various places, but you went there to meet up with him because after all those years in the coffee shop building up a foundation of trust you and the owners of the coffee shop obviously trusted him enough to bring him on board as staff too, you decided to go ahead and meet up with said coffee shop staff member, and then he tortured you and almost killed you and said that I had to choose between coffee or death at his hand and he scared the living daylights out of you and then he made you act as his slave and then he took you to that internet café that was mentioned earlier and forced you to perform a sexual act on him which was documented by other members of the internet café who also visit the coffee shop regularly too. Imagine going through all of that and then escaping, admittedly after being robbed of 100euros and my £200 headphones and a sweater that he didn't like the look of, but kicked out at 3am in the morning on a Friday night. I had to struggle to find my way back to the train station to take me back to my own land and then my debit card was stolen at the station too so I had to manage to get back home just with the money I had drawn out of the ATM on the way to the train station and luckily had just enough cash, bar about £1 to make it back to my home safely


Imagine going back into this coffee shop as it had become almost a second home to you after visiting it for almost 9 year and being relieved that the member of staff had been fired and starting to feel safe in the coffee shop again, but then this ex staff member who was fired for good reason decided to come back to the coffee shop too and sometimes even sit at the next table and make comments about me in my area of the coffee shop, which were later deleted from the memory of the coffee shop regulars but not the staff that were still there. Imagine how hard and angry it made me to sometimes see this ex staff member who was sacked for allegations of sexual assault on a customer of the coffee shop, imagine how angry it made him when he kept seeing this ex staff member come and sit down in the coffee shop and make comments to the other visitors of the coffee shop as though nothing had happened.


I often wonder about the moral values of the owners and senior and even the regular staff member of this coffee shop for allowing this member back through the door at all and not banning him from entering completely after what happened with me, he could sit in that coffee shop for years more to come and eventually gain the trust of someone else that also visits the coffee shop and do exactly the same thing.


I'm just asking for a bit of human respect here really and some morality on your part, I know there is the innocent until proven guilty thing but the police have been informed and will make their enquiries. It just fills me with anger and makes me sometimes want to find an alternate coffee shop to the one that I loved so much for over 8 years, almost 9 when I see this other criminal visitor ex member of staff come in and act as though nothing has happened.
Late Wednesday night, or by technicality, early Valentine's Day morning, my boyfriend and I got into an argument after he had asked if I was using again. I answered honestly. I said 'yes'. His reaction was most definitely negative; both hurt and angered that I had lied to him about being clean. He said that if I truly loved him like I said I did, I wouldn't choose to lie to him OR use... He's never been addicted to a thing in his life, so I tried to explain that it wasn't as cut and dry as he seemed to think. I was drunk, he was being passive aggressive, resulting in my extreme defensiveness, especially after coming clean with him and feeling ashamed and vulnerable. He ended up saying that I must be imagining my love for him, because there's no possible way I could feel it and act as I did in hiding my addiction with him. At that point, I went from upset to angry. I shoved his Valentine's Day gift in his hands and told him to get the hell out of my apartment, where I think proceeded to ensue on a three day long binge, where I consumed barely any food or water, and didn't sleep at all.

The only communication I had with him was via text message. By the time Saturday night had ended, he had only replied once, thanking me for a long message I had written, and that he needed some time to think about everything. He said that he had been crying almost constantly. My long message to him basically explained that it was entirely my problem and had nothing to do with him. I didn't use to hurt him, and didn't lie with intentions of deceiving him. I just wanted him to be happy, so I hid that nasty part of myself that I knew he wouldn't enjoy. I wanted to be perfect. I apologized.


He finally responded again on Sunday morning (today), with "I don't like this anymore than you. I hate it. I just really don't know what to do." With that, I asked him to be there for me, and that I realized that I can't take this on alone. I wanted to get clean, and I explained why. He asked if he could come over to talk about it. With some hesitation, I said yes, even though I was positive he would be coming to officially end our relationship.

At this point, I hadn't slept the night before, hadn't eaten all day, and frankly looked like shit. I scrambled to wash my face, brush my teeth, and look somewhat less haggard. When he walked in, he was silent. Just walked up to me on the couch, sat next to me, then sighed and embraced me. We held each other for several hours, mostly crying and holding on as tightly as we could. He told me how much he missed me, and that he couldn't soak up enough of me. And then something really pivotal happened... we have been together for 9 months, and he had still not told me that he loved me. I have said it for a couple of months now, but it isn't a common occurrence by any means. He lifted my chin so we were looking eye to eye, and he said, "I do." I looked at him, questioning, and he repeated himself. Upon realizing what he meant, I started sobbing. He continued, "I do love you. And I have for a while now. I've just been too scared to say it until now. How do I tell someone I love them when I have to trust that they'll take care of that love?"

At this point we were both crying, embraced, kissing away each others tears. He said, "I've never once doubted your love for me. I know that has always been pure. I know you've never meant to hurt me. I love you so much." And for the first time, I got to reply with a very emotional, 'I love you, too'.


Our next bit of conversation was his observations about me the last couple of weeks. He said that he noticed I had been depressed (even more than usual), and noticed that I was sending him a lot of old photos. I didn't notice that I was, but looking back on it now, I agree. He thinks that because I've been struggling emotionally since I am so thin, I felt like I needed to remind him of how I "used" to look. "You're just as sexy now as you used to be. You're beautiful. I'm attracted to the outside and the inside of you."

He continued, "You're going to have to do this for YOU, 100%. Not me. You don't use to get high. You use as a way to punish yourself. I hate that you hate yourself. I wish you could see in you what I see. I've never been ashamed or embarrassed of you. I would walk down any street with you proudly on my arm." We both started crying again. And he's right. I see it now. My remarkably low self-esteem and self-hate have launched me into a cycle of abuse that i'm fully aware is killing me, only to make myself suffer for a reason I'm not aware of quite yet. He told me how amazingly proud he was of me for telling some of my friends and for reaching out for help. "But you need to want this 100%. You can't keep going on this cycle, or it's going to kill you. I can't keep doing this. I'm going to support you no matter what, but I'm not sure if us being together right now is a healthy thing for you. Or us."

At that point, I pleaded that I would get therapy and sober up entirely for myself and just asked that he trust me. And at that point, he asked how he could trust me at that point? I cried harder, thinking about going at this battle alone. He held my body, weak and exhausted, soaked in tears. I cried for almost an hour. He was kissing me all over my head and neck, trying to cheer me up or merely showing affection, saying he couldn't kiss me enough. Kissing led to passionate making out, which led to a very emotional sexual romp, which included us orgasming simultaneously and crying while holding each other. After the sex, he noticed I was trembling and my heart was racing. He made me drink some water and the look on his face was so sad it made me want to look away so he couldn't see me in that condition. I asked him to be strong for me. He said he didn't know if he was strong enough.

(Have we cried enough yet?)

We ate a quick dinner as he had to leave for work (he works at a bar). He told me he had a million things rushing through his head and he still needed to think things through (my assumption it being mainly on the issue of staying together while I am recovering). I couldn't muster any words, just nodded. He kissed my forehead and left.


And now I'm here, sitting alone in my apartment. I turned on my music and the song that happened to pop up was Bright Eyes, "First Day of My Life". I thought it remarkably fitting, so I sent the lyrics along to my love. He has yet to respond, but I doubt he will. The last 6 hours he and I went through were remarkably draining but also in a positive direction.
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