I'll be posting the continuation of this report in the next week or so. It's in pieces at the moment. I've been extremely busy with work and university.
As for why my trip reports are solitary, I didn't have any friends. I did, really, but I have ignored them for a long time. I never socialized. Never had anyone over to my house. Never went to parties. Never dated. Not since my divorce. When I lost my wife, I convinced myself that I didn't need anyone. I tried to convince myself that I didn't need sex, either. Because you can't have sex without people. And the thought of being close to someone was unbearable.
I had one of the worst divorces in human history. I realize that's a big statement, but it's true. It could not have been worse. It was an absolute nightmare. When my wife got sectioned, I had to be strong for her. Visiting her in the psych ward was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. This beautiful woman, so full of life when she met me, reduced to a fucking lunatic. The love of my life, a zombie: living; dead. I repressed all the pain I felt. Sacrificed my true emotional state, in order to ensure that she recovered as quickly as possible. I found a strength that I never would have believed. The price was numbness. I turned myself off. And I got nothing in return. She left me. Her parents stole her from me. I was still numb when she left. Rather than switching myself back on, I remained like that for two years. Indifferent towards myself. Emotionless. At the time, it seemed like a better option than feeling. All the pain I had repressed, on top of the pain of our separation, it was too much. At first, I thought I'd get her back. I told myself that the numbness was temporary. That I just had to wait until we reconciled, and then I could allow myself to be a person again. Rather than a shell. Two and half years have passed, now. I haven't spoken to her for a year. She's not coming back. Funny thing is when I switched back on, I didn't feel the pain. I never felt it. My heartache. The pain of my divorce. I bypassed by sustaining my emotional coma. I think, maybe, that was the plan all along. I never really believed she would come back. I wasn't waiting for her. I was waiting for time to erase her. Now that it has, I'm starting to socialize again. I'm not shut off from people anymore. I've stopped ignoring my friends. One of these days, I might even ask a girl out on a date.
I have been alone long enough.
Though, I have to say, being a hermit - living independently of society - has taught me a lot. I'm a much better person than I was before. Less social anxiety. More peace. I understand myself so well now. I no longer rely on people, as so many co-dependents do. I don't need a relationship. I don't need to go out with people. Now, I do it because I want to. Without the divorce, and my period of isolation, I wouldn't be the person I am today. I'm glad I got divorced. And I'm glad I've been alone for so long. If it didn't happen this way, I don't think I ever would have cured myself of need. Exposure therapy, I guess. I've been completely alone so long that I'm no longer afraid of being alone. I know who I am, and how my brain works. After switching myself off, I spent two and a half years reading the manual. Two and a half years inside my head.
Now, life is more beautiful than ever.
But, yeah, I've got to kick the meth. I never managed to stop. The binge is no longer a binge. It is now my life. I was in serious denial when I wrote this report, and my various responses to people as they reached out to me. There's no denying it now. I have a serious problem. Though, like my divorce, I will come out of this addiction a better man. I have learnt so much from methamphetamines, far more than I could have learnt from any other drug. Being alone on uppers fast-tracked my progress. This phase of my life is complete. I don't want to take drugs by myself anymore. I want to be close to people. To be in love. Get re-married. Have kids. To live what I hesitate to call a normal life. Relatively normal, anyway. And when I manage to break this addiction, I will be free to do so.
It's been a long time, coming.
I appreciate the concern that everyone has expressed; and, I apologize if I reacted poorly. Although I denied what was said, initially, you have all helped me gradually come to the realization that I am not - in fact - immortal.
You have a brilliant talent of writing, and you sound like you have enough experience in life to write some amazing stories about drugs bomges, but i would love to hear a novel of a recovering addict who overcome his ego and started a potato farm.
There are some potatoes in my fridge that have long stalky bits sticking out of them, if that helps...
(I'm writing six novels, btw, and one of them - the longest - is about meth addiction.)