(no subject)
this is mine. ive had this journal for probably four or five years. and this week i realized something fucked up happened. somewhere along the line, im guessing when the party started or at least when i started focusing more on hanging out, i lost a fat chunk of myself. that has to be the cheesiest way to put it but ive been thinking heavily in terms of "cheese" for current lack of better word and other played out magical revelations that have been portrayed countless times in book and film. i dont give a shit, i mean yeah i wish i didnt feel it but it's human emotion, some of it's just unavoidable. i think it's called relating.
whatever.
the point is that i havent been completely 100% honest with myself (but who really is?). im a huge fucking nerd. i was reminded of this when i was at the bar talking to a girl. we were at least a little beer attracted to each other but i really couldnt do anything about it. i would rather just be like hey youre cute too im going to crawl into a cave and start a fire. theres plenty that could be said about underlying reasons for this, but however it's analyzed it still makes me a fucking dork. i forgot that when i was seven or eight years old i decided i was going to do things as they came naturally to me, because more often than not i ended up getting things right and not messing things up so much. of course thats like macaroni art versus going to jail, but either way i distinctly remember deciding that i wasnt going to listen to other people if i thought my idea would work better, because every time i did it someone else's way i (or we) ended up in getting in trouble. and that is one of the most frustrating things in the world, to know that you were right and now youre screwed because of someone else. difficulty submitting to authority is such a fucking can of worms im not even going to think about it right now.
i really havent even cracked the surface here, so instead of trying to articulate this shit in form and agreement im just going to spit out what been making me cry lately.
i cant remember the last time i was so frustrated in my life. i feel like it's tattooed on my forehead or somehow attached to my social security number so that when anyone ever accesses my information they know to fuck with me until i eventually break down and die or just leave. this is also the first time ive ever written and hoped that my wonderful mother might come across it. ive been on buprenorphine, a form of detox medication (essentially methadone's big brother) for about five months. it's only function is to keep me from going into opiate withdrawals so i can function normally because without this medicine or heroin or some other form of opiate i would not be able to get out of bed or off the couch for anywhere from a week to a month, and thats a long fucking time to miss work or class. ive never made it through one day without something, it's like the flu times ten. im scared when i come off of this shit im going to be laying in my room moaning and crying and shitting on myself trying to claw my throat and eyes out, if it's anything like the few times ive started actual withdrawal, and i cant imagine how it's going to be a week in. it's literally unfathomable and i cannot stress it enough. i want to laugh it's going to be so bad, just to keep from crying. anyway, thats why they put people that are dumb enough to abuse these opiates so regularly that their bodies become dependent on these drugs. and it's the fear of withdrawal, and the time it takes to dedicate to pretty much feel like youre dying slowly for a while. it's kind of confusing to get into this because it's trading one drug for another, but it's one that's far more deadly, dangerous, and illegal, for one that you can live indefinitely on with minimal side effects.
note: THIS IS 100000% MY FAULT. i am not crying for sympathy or help, i know what i have to do, i just want to get this out of my head. im tired of this running through my brain over and over and over and being afraid to bring it up or even access it on my own, because obviously i dont want to kill myself right now when ive got good shit coming down the pipeline (hopefully?), and this shit makes me pretty fucking irrational, and when that becomes an option something is wrong. ive been frustrated to tears so often lately not just because im in this situation, but because this situation is affecting everything in my life so negatively. i can barely afford my meds, actually i cant, i split them with someone, and then i cant afford my bills, so then i do stupid things just to make a little extra money to try and cover my shit. to try and have money for gas and food now that im out of dining dollars and ive only been able to work a day a week, two if im lucky. i really dont know how ive been getting by at all. if i had enough money to cover my bills i swear to anything alive and real that my life would be smiles and hugs and making people feel better. but then on top of all this bullshit ive been dreaming and thinking about my dad and just thinking about being able to listen to some records or go fishing with him. now im crying too much to type fuck thisl
this is all weird.
i dont want to talk or think anymore. i want to be held like a little baby. but since thats never going to happen im going to cry alone while i drive back to tuscaloosa, rubbing this antianxiety pill into dust in my fingers because im a really fucking leaky pipe and im tired of being wrapped in duct tape over and over. i need to drain it all out and turn back into the smiling goddamn dust i came from. or ill just eat it and continue to cry for what seems like no reason.
ps
HAPPY EASTERRRR!!
mom if youre reading this im sorry shoob and i came home at 6am, i really really wanted to go to church with you, and im sure thats another reason i cried earlier. i love you and i actually believe youre the best mom anyone could ever have.
whatever.
the point is that i havent been completely 100% honest with myself (but who really is?). im a huge fucking nerd. i was reminded of this when i was at the bar talking to a girl. we were at least a little beer attracted to each other but i really couldnt do anything about it. i would rather just be like hey youre cute too im going to crawl into a cave and start a fire. theres plenty that could be said about underlying reasons for this, but however it's analyzed it still makes me a fucking dork. i forgot that when i was seven or eight years old i decided i was going to do things as they came naturally to me, because more often than not i ended up getting things right and not messing things up so much. of course thats like macaroni art versus going to jail, but either way i distinctly remember deciding that i wasnt going to listen to other people if i thought my idea would work better, because every time i did it someone else's way i (or we) ended up in getting in trouble. and that is one of the most frustrating things in the world, to know that you were right and now youre screwed because of someone else. difficulty submitting to authority is such a fucking can of worms im not even going to think about it right now.
i really havent even cracked the surface here, so instead of trying to articulate this shit in form and agreement im just going to spit out what been making me cry lately.
i cant remember the last time i was so frustrated in my life. i feel like it's tattooed on my forehead or somehow attached to my social security number so that when anyone ever accesses my information they know to fuck with me until i eventually break down and die or just leave. this is also the first time ive ever written and hoped that my wonderful mother might come across it. ive been on buprenorphine, a form of detox medication (essentially methadone's big brother) for about five months. it's only function is to keep me from going into opiate withdrawals so i can function normally because without this medicine or heroin or some other form of opiate i would not be able to get out of bed or off the couch for anywhere from a week to a month, and thats a long fucking time to miss work or class. ive never made it through one day without something, it's like the flu times ten. im scared when i come off of this shit im going to be laying in my room moaning and crying and shitting on myself trying to claw my throat and eyes out, if it's anything like the few times ive started actual withdrawal, and i cant imagine how it's going to be a week in. it's literally unfathomable and i cannot stress it enough. i want to laugh it's going to be so bad, just to keep from crying. anyway, thats why they put people that are dumb enough to abuse these opiates so regularly that their bodies become dependent on these drugs. and it's the fear of withdrawal, and the time it takes to dedicate to pretty much feel like youre dying slowly for a while. it's kind of confusing to get into this because it's trading one drug for another, but it's one that's far more deadly, dangerous, and illegal, for one that you can live indefinitely on with minimal side effects.
note: THIS IS 100000% MY FAULT. i am not crying for sympathy or help, i know what i have to do, i just want to get this out of my head. im tired of this running through my brain over and over and over and being afraid to bring it up or even access it on my own, because obviously i dont want to kill myself right now when ive got good shit coming down the pipeline (hopefully?), and this shit makes me pretty fucking irrational, and when that becomes an option something is wrong. ive been frustrated to tears so often lately not just because im in this situation, but because this situation is affecting everything in my life so negatively. i can barely afford my meds, actually i cant, i split them with someone, and then i cant afford my bills, so then i do stupid things just to make a little extra money to try and cover my shit. to try and have money for gas and food now that im out of dining dollars and ive only been able to work a day a week, two if im lucky. i really dont know how ive been getting by at all. if i had enough money to cover my bills i swear to anything alive and real that my life would be smiles and hugs and making people feel better. but then on top of all this bullshit ive been dreaming and thinking about my dad and just thinking about being able to listen to some records or go fishing with him. now im crying too much to type fuck thisl
this is all weird.
i dont want to talk or think anymore. i want to be held like a little baby. but since thats never going to happen im going to cry alone while i drive back to tuscaloosa, rubbing this antianxiety pill into dust in my fingers because im a really fucking leaky pipe and im tired of being wrapped in duct tape over and over. i need to drain it all out and turn back into the smiling goddamn dust i came from. or ill just eat it and continue to cry for what seems like no reason.
ps
HAPPY EASTERRRR!!
mom if youre reading this im sorry shoob and i came home at 6am, i really really wanted to go to church with you, and im sure thats another reason i cried earlier. i love you and i actually believe youre the best mom anyone could ever have.