- Joined
- Mar 7, 2011
- Messages
- 25,372
I don't know why I keep getting the benefit of the doubt from the divine. I have survived the seemingly unsurvivable, yet again. It doesn't seem fair to me, that I have been given so many chances to figure it out, and keep dropping the ball. While there are so many people out there, so many innocents and otherwise good people, that aren't even given one chance, let alone several.
I overdosed Tuesday morning, on heroin/fentanyl. There is still a pit in my stomach thinking about it, and I'm still trying to piece together how I feel about it. The circumstances are practically irrelevant. But, my girlfriends dog woke her up, and she found me unresponsive on the floor. I stopped breathing and she dialed 911.
It wasn't intentional.
I don't get it anymore. I was angry when I first woke up. The chest x-rays revealed that I had a case of pneumonia. My sinuses were filled with blood from that big tube they shove in your nose to keep you breathing. I was covered head to toe in bruises. I had been given two doses of narcan.
I snorted a ten dollar capsule of heroin around five or six in the AM. I had done maybe one other capsule throughout the previous few hours, and smoked a decent amount of crack.
I still don't really know how to feel. I can't tell my family about it this time. It would just demolish my mother. But I have to tell you guys, and hopefully it can serve as some kind of message of positivity.
I'm just happy I didn't gift her my death this year for Christmas. But I feel supremely awful about it. I can't stop fucking up. I don't know anymore what I can do to stop destroying myself. Well, I do, but I don't know if I'm capable.
I guess these holidays, don't forget how temporary everything is, and don't forget to hold your family close. They love you.
And I love you. God bless you all, and Merry Christmas.
I overdosed Tuesday morning, on heroin/fentanyl. There is still a pit in my stomach thinking about it, and I'm still trying to piece together how I feel about it. The circumstances are practically irrelevant. But, my girlfriends dog woke her up, and she found me unresponsive on the floor. I stopped breathing and she dialed 911.
It wasn't intentional.
I don't get it anymore. I was angry when I first woke up. The chest x-rays revealed that I had a case of pneumonia. My sinuses were filled with blood from that big tube they shove in your nose to keep you breathing. I was covered head to toe in bruises. I had been given two doses of narcan.
I snorted a ten dollar capsule of heroin around five or six in the AM. I had done maybe one other capsule throughout the previous few hours, and smoked a decent amount of crack.
I still don't really know how to feel. I can't tell my family about it this time. It would just demolish my mother. But I have to tell you guys, and hopefully it can serve as some kind of message of positivity.
I'm just happy I didn't gift her my death this year for Christmas. But I feel supremely awful about it. I can't stop fucking up. I don't know anymore what I can do to stop destroying myself. Well, I do, but I don't know if I'm capable.
I guess these holidays, don't forget how temporary everything is, and don't forget to hold your family close. They love you.
And I love you. God bless you all, and Merry Christmas.