I am really fucking up. For a while now I’ve been using every few hours around the clock, including at work. Using in public obviously increases the chance of getting arrested, and I think I would care except that all I really care about is using. I had been binging more and more frequently, then the episodes started bleeding into each other until there was no letup, and it’s been that way for over a month. My best friend asked me to quit for a day, since the prior week had been way out of control. I agreed to when he pointed out that getting high would be more effective the next day if I could get my tolerance to drop a bit. Going clean is torture. I got sick faster than I ever have after about six hours. By early evening, I got hold of a bit from a source I had never used before. The stuff was either bad or else I was allergic to something in it, because it really messed with me. A few hours later, I had what felt like a heart attack (I’ve had two confirmed ones, plus seizures and overdoses), but I don’t know for sure. I laid in bed in acute pain and unable to move, and I didn’t call into work. I’ve been missing at least one day a week, and I show up late or leave early a lot. The few hours I manage to be there, I usually use at least once. I can’t get back in control. This isn’t me. For a long time I balanced working eighty hours between two jobs with school on the side. I had friends, was happy, clean, and I was good to my parents and siblings. I don’t know how to stop now, but I’m also not sure if I want to stop.
Two nights ago I was hanging out with my neighbor, who was the hookup for the bad stuff. He was on something that made him extremely aggressive. He was telling me how fragile skinny girls are while slamming his wall. That scared the piss out of me, so I got up to leave, and he punched me three times, bam bam bam, in the face and stomach. When I got back to my place upstairs, he came and pounded on my door for over an hour with no letup. Calling the cops was out because I was high as a kite, and he’s on parole and would go back to prison for a long time. I don’t like the guy, but I don’t want to be the one to maket that call. The next night (last night) I was back at his place using, and he offered to share his vile drug that made him so aggressive. It turned out to be PCP. I’ve never tried a drug I didn’t like until last night. I was scared out of my wits. I had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. I had terrifying thoughts, scary hallucinations, and was viciously suicidal. I sat in the shower for over an hour desperately wanting to kill myself. I don’t remember a lot of it, but after sobering up a bit, I got out a notebook and wrote some pretty crazy things down that I read this morning. In April I had a lethal overdose that happened really fast. The dealer’s roommate (they’re both my good friends) took me to the side of a road and called 911 from my phone before leaving me there. I haven’t spent much time thinking about the overdose, but last night my thoughts were heavily focused on it. From what I wrote, I think I was questioning whether I had been alive or dead since it happened, because I had felt dead since April. Strange drug.
Yesterday, I think I stumbled on my family’s plan for an intervention, so I laid low. This morning I listened to my dreaded voicemails. The first several were attempts of friends and family to contact me, people I haven’t heard from in months, just wanting to “talk.” Those morphed into emergency calls from my parents taking my mom to the hospital in the afternoon. She just had heart surgery last week, and I never went to see her in the hospital or at her house afterward. Two days prior to her surgery, my dad had received some bad results from a biopsy, but they still don’t know what precisely is wrong with him. I haven’t been there for him either. They are both really sick, and their drinking on top of their health problems is killing them faster. Meanwhile, I went AWOL while they’re simultaneously facing what could be the death of them. I hate myself so much lately. How do I face them today? I have to see my dad in a little bit, and I don’t know what I will say to him.
Okay, this was a completely pessimistic post, but a vent was in order before work.