JasperTheReckless
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2011
- Messages
- 339
I made it four months, but I cracked. Sorry guys.
It started off better than any day I've been graced to experience for years. Literally, my perfect day; sunny, lightly raining. I walked to Walmart and snooped til I found two boxes of generic Coricidin. $4.12, here you go.
I went home and counted them. Thirty two red devils. I put them in my little silk pouch, originally meant for headphones, or something, and left for class.
I stopped at the gas station and bought a drink. Cherry coke mixed with lemonade, pretty good.
I have cavities though, so my teeth ached a bit. Need to go to the dentist, but don't have the money.
I get to my class, court ordered program, for when I was caught shoplifting bottles of syrup.
I went in, ask for a receipt and ask them about the remaining duration of the class.
I chose the drug abuse program, as opposed to the theft program, because it was less embarrassing.
But there were a few paperwork errors.
The sky had turned darker, and the world felt bad again, like old times.
I asked the secretary, and I was informed I am $490 short. The program costs more than double the other, and I was never informed. I cannot get the money, the $600 I already payed, was borrowed.
I begin to lose my pleasant demeanor. The panic rat is back, gnawing on my brainstem. I try to hold it together. Class is an hour and a half, I'll go home and drop 8 C's and try to work this out. I talk to my therapist, but she belittles me in front of the entire class, saying I should have known before I did so.
She is the one who presented the paperwork and failed to explain it fully.
I grew furious.
I sat and ground my teeth for a bit.
I got up, went to the bathroom, and emptied the bag down my throat. Dexter and thirty one friends. It was 6:23pm.
--------
I came back into the room, and sat and listened to the others talk about their weekly struggles, and I felt the guilt tickling at me. They were discussing the pain of being sober, and across the room, i'm waiting out a dose. It hits my digestive tract, and I feel it begin. A chill down my spine as dopamine floods. Colors brighten, attention span shrinks; the veins in my hands bulge, and my skin tightens as I grow dehydrated.
Welcome back.
Class ended and I stood up to talk to the instructor, and I got a strong rush through my body. Oh no. I still had to talk to her, I need to figure this out, slow down, not yet.
Cursed by my own forgetfulness, I forgot that four months will lower a tolerance nice and good.
I stumble through the words, disguise my word slips with a stretch, and hurried to the bathroom. From come up to second plateau was ten minutes tops.
Guess I took a bit more than I bargained for. I pissed, and left. I am walking down the sidewalk, and my stomach is complaining; I try to hold myself together, but keeping composure on a violent DXM comeup is only a god's skill.
I walked two blocks, and I felt the salty taste in the back of my mouth, I burp, and powder comes up. I rush to sit at the curb.
There are some little kids playing up the street. They seem....happy. Why can't I have that? Why am I being punished?
The rush was brutal, it stormed through my veins, and threatened to leave me laying on the ground broken and bruised
This is what drugs feel like? Why did I do this to myself? I can't remember this feeling. It's so alien. I sold years of my life to this?
Why?
My stomach loses the battle. I hug my knees and try to keep it down, but I threw up anyways. Only red comes up; no chunks of pills. Again; some water comes up, and then it's over.
I stare into the pool of vomit and see wisps of red, taunting me, like hellish ghosts fighting for a claim over my soul. It's all so surreal.
I shakily stand up, and cross the street. I continue walking, zoning in and out becoming aware of suddenly being closer to the apartment; I got lost in my thoughts easily. It's a two mile walk, but seemed to only take minutes.
I stumble inside, and I am overcome with sadness. I climb onto my friend's bed; I forget what a bed is like, I haven't had one for years.
Open eye hallucinations. Wolves sitting watching me, I pleaded with them to let me become one of them. I cried and begged, but they only stared. Their eyes grew deep and black, like demons eyes. Suddenly one opens it's mouth wide and let out a shrill inhuman scream, I covered my ears, but I could hear it deep down inside of me.
I stared and hoped the sound would stop; silence engulfed me once more. Another wolf opened it's jaws but this time, it was my boyfriend's voice begging me to stay clean, telling me I was doing so well, and I felt so, so bad.
I drifted off into a hellish half sleep. People running towards me waving their arms, telling me to avoid something, but what? Tell me! Be careful of what???
I woke and checked my phone, only an hour had passed. I shuddered, and rolled onto my back, and was lost in the rotation of the ceiling fan the spinning fan blades turned into a black vortex whispering things to me in an alien tongue.
The room twisted and writhed, just like the little boy inside my head; in agony, eternally punished for yesterdays errors.
I woke again and decided to come and watch a movie; I chose one I had already seen, The Hunger Games. I love watching movies on DXM, I can look at a character and emulate their emotional state. the two hours speed by, and I lean back on the couch and stare at the red LED's on my amplifier. It blurred into two dots, and they jittered back and forth, racing each other. I broke rule number one again. I sighed.
Don't dose in a bad mood.
------
It was now 1am and I stood in the bathroom doorway staring into the darkness. I forgot which way I was facing, into the bathroom, or the hallway, it was so dark. I slid to the floor and sat there for who knows how long. I thought about things, but nothing really made any sense, I was still floundering about in the sands of delirium. I shook myself off and crawled onto the couch and was lost once more in the waking dreams granted by power of Dexter's wrath.
------
I woke up this morning, and typed this up. I suppose I fought off a catastrophic anxiety attack, but now my boyfriend is upset with me for breaking my sobriety, I STILL owe the money and now I have to decide what to do.
Hope it was a good read sorry for it being shorter than usual, I wasn't expecting to black out on less than a gram; misjudged. I'll catch you later BL'ers.
It started off better than any day I've been graced to experience for years. Literally, my perfect day; sunny, lightly raining. I walked to Walmart and snooped til I found two boxes of generic Coricidin. $4.12, here you go.
I went home and counted them. Thirty two red devils. I put them in my little silk pouch, originally meant for headphones, or something, and left for class.
I stopped at the gas station and bought a drink. Cherry coke mixed with lemonade, pretty good.
I have cavities though, so my teeth ached a bit. Need to go to the dentist, but don't have the money.
I get to my class, court ordered program, for when I was caught shoplifting bottles of syrup.
I went in, ask for a receipt and ask them about the remaining duration of the class.
I chose the drug abuse program, as opposed to the theft program, because it was less embarrassing.
But there were a few paperwork errors.
The sky had turned darker, and the world felt bad again, like old times.
I asked the secretary, and I was informed I am $490 short. The program costs more than double the other, and I was never informed. I cannot get the money, the $600 I already payed, was borrowed.
I begin to lose my pleasant demeanor. The panic rat is back, gnawing on my brainstem. I try to hold it together. Class is an hour and a half, I'll go home and drop 8 C's and try to work this out. I talk to my therapist, but she belittles me in front of the entire class, saying I should have known before I did so.
She is the one who presented the paperwork and failed to explain it fully.
I grew furious.
I sat and ground my teeth for a bit.
I got up, went to the bathroom, and emptied the bag down my throat. Dexter and thirty one friends. It was 6:23pm.
--------
I came back into the room, and sat and listened to the others talk about their weekly struggles, and I felt the guilt tickling at me. They were discussing the pain of being sober, and across the room, i'm waiting out a dose. It hits my digestive tract, and I feel it begin. A chill down my spine as dopamine floods. Colors brighten, attention span shrinks; the veins in my hands bulge, and my skin tightens as I grow dehydrated.
Welcome back.
Class ended and I stood up to talk to the instructor, and I got a strong rush through my body. Oh no. I still had to talk to her, I need to figure this out, slow down, not yet.
Cursed by my own forgetfulness, I forgot that four months will lower a tolerance nice and good.
I stumble through the words, disguise my word slips with a stretch, and hurried to the bathroom. From come up to second plateau was ten minutes tops.
Guess I took a bit more than I bargained for. I pissed, and left. I am walking down the sidewalk, and my stomach is complaining; I try to hold myself together, but keeping composure on a violent DXM comeup is only a god's skill.
I walked two blocks, and I felt the salty taste in the back of my mouth, I burp, and powder comes up. I rush to sit at the curb.
There are some little kids playing up the street. They seem....happy. Why can't I have that? Why am I being punished?
The rush was brutal, it stormed through my veins, and threatened to leave me laying on the ground broken and bruised
This is what drugs feel like? Why did I do this to myself? I can't remember this feeling. It's so alien. I sold years of my life to this?
Why?
My stomach loses the battle. I hug my knees and try to keep it down, but I threw up anyways. Only red comes up; no chunks of pills. Again; some water comes up, and then it's over.
I stare into the pool of vomit and see wisps of red, taunting me, like hellish ghosts fighting for a claim over my soul. It's all so surreal.
I shakily stand up, and cross the street. I continue walking, zoning in and out becoming aware of suddenly being closer to the apartment; I got lost in my thoughts easily. It's a two mile walk, but seemed to only take minutes.
I stumble inside, and I am overcome with sadness. I climb onto my friend's bed; I forget what a bed is like, I haven't had one for years.
Open eye hallucinations. Wolves sitting watching me, I pleaded with them to let me become one of them. I cried and begged, but they only stared. Their eyes grew deep and black, like demons eyes. Suddenly one opens it's mouth wide and let out a shrill inhuman scream, I covered my ears, but I could hear it deep down inside of me.
I stared and hoped the sound would stop; silence engulfed me once more. Another wolf opened it's jaws but this time, it was my boyfriend's voice begging me to stay clean, telling me I was doing so well, and I felt so, so bad.
I drifted off into a hellish half sleep. People running towards me waving their arms, telling me to avoid something, but what? Tell me! Be careful of what???
I woke and checked my phone, only an hour had passed. I shuddered, and rolled onto my back, and was lost in the rotation of the ceiling fan the spinning fan blades turned into a black vortex whispering things to me in an alien tongue.
The room twisted and writhed, just like the little boy inside my head; in agony, eternally punished for yesterdays errors.
I woke again and decided to come and watch a movie; I chose one I had already seen, The Hunger Games. I love watching movies on DXM, I can look at a character and emulate their emotional state. the two hours speed by, and I lean back on the couch and stare at the red LED's on my amplifier. It blurred into two dots, and they jittered back and forth, racing each other. I broke rule number one again. I sighed.
Don't dose in a bad mood.
------
It was now 1am and I stood in the bathroom doorway staring into the darkness. I forgot which way I was facing, into the bathroom, or the hallway, it was so dark. I slid to the floor and sat there for who knows how long. I thought about things, but nothing really made any sense, I was still floundering about in the sands of delirium. I shook myself off and crawled onto the couch and was lost once more in the waking dreams granted by power of Dexter's wrath.
------
I woke up this morning, and typed this up. I suppose I fought off a catastrophic anxiety attack, but now my boyfriend is upset with me for breaking my sobriety, I STILL owe the money and now I have to decide what to do.
Hope it was a good read sorry for it being shorter than usual, I wasn't expecting to black out on less than a gram; misjudged. I'll catch you later BL'ers.
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