dankhead88
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 19, 2005
- Messages
- 918
I go to court and even though my body is physically fine, my brain tells me otherwise.
Been sober for my pretrial hearing but if I do walk out of the court room, I have a big fat surprise waiting for me in my vehicle that's hiding in the dark.
As I watch the clock, I wait for the judge... It seems that time likes to play games with a person's mind as I anxiously watch the clock. The more the I the clock the slower the time gets; only to make me feel more impatient than I already am.
The judge finally calls my name and I expect the worst from getting caught and hospitalized with methamphetamine and heroin possession(which I was only charged with methamphetamine). License suspension, 5 year probation, and all the other works and limitations for an individuals' freedom. After all, I already used my First Offender plea and Nolo Contendere, so I was out of cards to play and all these punishments were racing through my mind. I mean, it seems logical.
The public defender( I would think she is) calls me and gives me a Pretrial Intervention Program that will drop my charges in 12 weeks along with community service without having to plead guilty or not-guilty and to my surprise, that went better than expected. I was quite the cheerful little bastard after hearing that. A big sigh of relief, I'll say.
As soon as I got that deal, I rushed to the car and got into my secret spot. I had a small bag ready for me for one time use. A fat mix of heroin and methamphetamine. I did that and immediately felt as if I won the lottery then I went and proceed to find the other person I was going to help drop off; a person I've met when I was in jail for that short period of time. He agreed to throw me some gas money and whatnot, but before we went to his house, we went ahead and went to his dope man. In which we picked up a couple bags of dope and and cocaine from the other side of the block and from that point we prepped up a shot in the middle of the ghetto and at the public library near his house, doing speedballs all afternoon.
I felt guilty in a sense, for the fact that I was getting high all that time even after the trouble that got me in jail in the first place. I am happy that I don't have an opioid addiction like I used to, but when it comes to psychological fixations, I always feel they're a different story and it somehow always pulls me in and I feel guilty to succumb that low. To feel that a drug has to have that effect over my emotions.
I eventually make it to his house, but when I was coming down from the coke, I felt more opiated than usual, but luckily I was not nodding off, thanks to the methamphetamine.(please do not drive under the influence) As soon as I got home, I finished the bag of dope and drifted in and out of nodland while having several glasses of cabernet sauvignon. The wine settled in for a good while, until I eventually vomited all over the toilet, turning the porcelain red from the wine. After several hours of being opiated, sleep deprived, and drunk, I fell asleep until the next day I finished my bottle of wine and had my last shot of dope.
I was tired of it. The intoxication is great and all, but why am I so afraid of sobriety? Is it adulthood? Is it boredom? I honestly have no clue, but it is seriously going to hinder my time to achieve freedom from this charge and although I am tinkering with some drugs here and there, I am going to stop it all, so that I can get my head straight. Before the IV and the heroin usage, I was quite the flirtatious guy, and was going out a lot, but it seems like I've ditched all my old friends, getting hooked on oxycodone and xanax, then to heroin, then later to methamphetamine and despite the current situation that I'm in, this could be the perfect time to get my shit together and start new before I get a step closer to being a relapsed addict.
Been sober for my pretrial hearing but if I do walk out of the court room, I have a big fat surprise waiting for me in my vehicle that's hiding in the dark.
As I watch the clock, I wait for the judge... It seems that time likes to play games with a person's mind as I anxiously watch the clock. The more the I the clock the slower the time gets; only to make me feel more impatient than I already am.
"Jesus, you are taking forever. Please, for the love of god, let's get this over with"
The judge finally calls my name and I expect the worst from getting caught and hospitalized with methamphetamine and heroin possession(which I was only charged with methamphetamine). License suspension, 5 year probation, and all the other works and limitations for an individuals' freedom. After all, I already used my First Offender plea and Nolo Contendere, so I was out of cards to play and all these punishments were racing through my mind. I mean, it seems logical.
"Sigh, well there goes the rest of my young adulthood."
The public defender( I would think she is) calls me and gives me a Pretrial Intervention Program that will drop my charges in 12 weeks along with community service without having to plead guilty or not-guilty and to my surprise, that went better than expected. I was quite the cheerful little bastard after hearing that. A big sigh of relief, I'll say.
As soon as I got that deal, I rushed to the car and got into my secret spot. I had a small bag ready for me for one time use. A fat mix of heroin and methamphetamine. I did that and immediately felt as if I won the lottery then I went and proceed to find the other person I was going to help drop off; a person I've met when I was in jail for that short period of time. He agreed to throw me some gas money and whatnot, but before we went to his house, we went ahead and went to his dope man. In which we picked up a couple bags of dope and and cocaine from the other side of the block and from that point we prepped up a shot in the middle of the ghetto and at the public library near his house, doing speedballs all afternoon.
I felt guilty in a sense, for the fact that I was getting high all that time even after the trouble that got me in jail in the first place. I am happy that I don't have an opioid addiction like I used to, but when it comes to psychological fixations, I always feel they're a different story and it somehow always pulls me in and I feel guilty to succumb that low. To feel that a drug has to have that effect over my emotions.
"You know, things could've been different and things could've been better."
I eventually make it to his house, but when I was coming down from the coke, I felt more opiated than usual, but luckily I was not nodding off, thanks to the methamphetamine.(please do not drive under the influence) As soon as I got home, I finished the bag of dope and drifted in and out of nodland while having several glasses of cabernet sauvignon. The wine settled in for a good while, until I eventually vomited all over the toilet, turning the porcelain red from the wine. After several hours of being opiated, sleep deprived, and drunk, I fell asleep until the next day I finished my bottle of wine and had my last shot of dope.
I was tired of it. The intoxication is great and all, but why am I so afraid of sobriety? Is it adulthood? Is it boredom? I honestly have no clue, but it is seriously going to hinder my time to achieve freedom from this charge and although I am tinkering with some drugs here and there, I am going to stop it all, so that I can get my head straight. Before the IV and the heroin usage, I was quite the flirtatious guy, and was going out a lot, but it seems like I've ditched all my old friends, getting hooked on oxycodone and xanax, then to heroin, then later to methamphetamine and despite the current situation that I'm in, this could be the perfect time to get my shit together and start new before I get a step closer to being a relapsed addict.
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