I swing with how I feel about my drug use. Sometimes I think I’m being melodramatic, that I’m just the typical person who experiments with drugs; the kind who lives freely and fuck the daily grind, lives for fun. Other times, when I see the statistics or look back at the patterns of my own life, I panic – I’m scared that my path is somehow set in stone; that they way my life progresses from here is inevitable. It scares me so much because those are the times when I wonder how much control I really have. I would like to think that I can do anything, as long as I try hard enough, but sometimes it’s so hard. It’s so hard to use my mind, which loves drugs, which drives me to use them and justifies their use, to quit drugs. Doesn’t that seem like a paradox? That I’m trying to use the very thing that is addicted to cure my addiction? It seems to me this is what makes it so difficult. As strong as my conviction is in quitting right now, another day, it could be equally strong that it’s ok to use, that it’s not so bad, what the fuck am I worried about? As good as I am in coming up with strategies not to use, I’m equally good at finding ways to get around them; to justify why those ideas were stupid and unnecessary in the first place.
Sometimes it seems that I’m just at the whim of a mood I have no control over – if I wake up wanting to quit, I can put that in motion, but if I wake up convinced using drugs is a good idea, I can’t conceptualise it could ever be another way.
But I want to quit, I’m sure of that. I’m 22, I’ve been smoking ice for 6 years. I feel like I’ve run this race, I’ve got all there is out of it. I love the drug lifestyle, but I’ve experienced it now, I don’t think it has anymore new experiences to give, at least not ones I want. I could keep living this lifestyle, but this is as good as it’ll ever get. I don’t want to just move on to other drugs either, they’re not really exciting for me anymore. The whole scene has just become mundane, though of course, at the same time, wonderfully intoxicating. I just think, and hope, that there is more to life than this. I at least want to find out for myself what else life has to offer. I don’t regret the years I’ve used drugs, but there must be so much more out there. I want to experience everything. Once I’ve experienced everything, maybe I’ll conclude that the drug lifestyle is the best one for me. If that’s the case, I can comfortably make an informed decision to go back to it. But not til I’ve experienced everything else.
It’s funny, because I can sit here and spill this shit and it sounds great and meaningful and right, and go out and love using drugs tomorrow. I was just watching a show on SBS, about alcoholics. It said again that addictions are chronic, relapsing conditions; that 9 people in their AA meeting had died from their alcoholism since the start of the year. It makes me panic again, I’m so scared for myself, I swear that that wont be me, that I’ll be one of the ones that gets out of this, a success story. And yet…at the same time, I’m thinking of my friend’s birthday party on Saturday. She’s already told me she’ll be doing meth and I’ve avoided making a decision about this party. Not thinking about it so I’m not responsible. So far my thoughts have been vague, along the lines of ‘Oh I’ll decide when I get there if I’ll use or not…’ Ha. Are you fucking serious? I know what the result would be with a plan like that, but it’s easier not to think. Thinking about making a decision so I don’t use panics me more than thinking about where my life could end up. In the end I made the right decision, I am 100% sure I won’t use at this party. Because in the end, I tell myself, it’s one night, who really cares.
Sometimes it seems that I’m just at the whim of a mood I have no control over – if I wake up wanting to quit, I can put that in motion, but if I wake up convinced using drugs is a good idea, I can’t conceptualise it could ever be another way.
But I want to quit, I’m sure of that. I’m 22, I’ve been smoking ice for 6 years. I feel like I’ve run this race, I’ve got all there is out of it. I love the drug lifestyle, but I’ve experienced it now, I don’t think it has anymore new experiences to give, at least not ones I want. I could keep living this lifestyle, but this is as good as it’ll ever get. I don’t want to just move on to other drugs either, they’re not really exciting for me anymore. The whole scene has just become mundane, though of course, at the same time, wonderfully intoxicating. I just think, and hope, that there is more to life than this. I at least want to find out for myself what else life has to offer. I don’t regret the years I’ve used drugs, but there must be so much more out there. I want to experience everything. Once I’ve experienced everything, maybe I’ll conclude that the drug lifestyle is the best one for me. If that’s the case, I can comfortably make an informed decision to go back to it. But not til I’ve experienced everything else.
It’s funny, because I can sit here and spill this shit and it sounds great and meaningful and right, and go out and love using drugs tomorrow. I was just watching a show on SBS, about alcoholics. It said again that addictions are chronic, relapsing conditions; that 9 people in their AA meeting had died from their alcoholism since the start of the year. It makes me panic again, I’m so scared for myself, I swear that that wont be me, that I’ll be one of the ones that gets out of this, a success story. And yet…at the same time, I’m thinking of my friend’s birthday party on Saturday. She’s already told me she’ll be doing meth and I’ve avoided making a decision about this party. Not thinking about it so I’m not responsible. So far my thoughts have been vague, along the lines of ‘Oh I’ll decide when I get there if I’ll use or not…’ Ha. Are you fucking serious? I know what the result would be with a plan like that, but it’s easier not to think. Thinking about making a decision so I don’t use panics me more than thinking about where my life could end up. In the end I made the right decision, I am 100% sure I won’t use at this party. Because in the end, I tell myself, it’s one night, who really cares.