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Bad News First

March 29, 2014

I have some bad news and some good news. The bad news is I relapsed on methamphetamine. I thought now and then would be icetarokay. It’s not. It’s a disease. It bleeds. It’s a need. It’s greed, just feeds! I’ve got to stop. I vow to you, to myself, to my friends and enemies, I will stop.

Everything I keep bottled up inside, that I think I will deal with on the proper occasion, at my pace, through art and working out and sports just overflows and drowns me, sends my soul to a benthic death beneath a deluge of pain. I can’t deal with it. The first 8 hours of being on meth are great. An overdose of euphoria. I’m movin’, I’m groovin’, I’m funny. Inhibitions crumble. The next twelve hours, dopamine depleted, are hell. More like, the next week is hell. My depression is intensified ten-fold. I drown, I burn, I crumble, I wither, I die. I sincerely hope that someone finds a way to stop this drug from being produced. I don’t know why I’ve had to learn this lesson so many times. I‘ve denied the drugs many times. Then one day, for the fuck of it, I did it. I’m done. Need to stop.

More bad news: I had one of those dreams from my gang-banging days that I was being murdered. In these dreams, it is always two people killing me with guns or knives. I truly hope this dream is a mistake or a metaphor, not a true dream. These days, I think about suicide at times, it’d be so easy—a gram of heroin in my veins. I envision it sometimes. But I’d rather live…even through hell (which prison is).

On that note, the good news: I haven’t seen my mother in quite some time, though she is approved to visit me. She tried to visit me once, but I left the room when I saw her. I’ve now decided to see her. Because I’m tired of the pain, the anger, the hatred, this beast inside becoming more voracious and devouring me, my heart and my soul, wreaking havoc on my brain…everything not “all fine and dandy.” I think seeing her is a step in the right direction—forgiveness and healing. If I want to be forgiven, I must forgive. If I want to love and live and be a person again, I have to forgive. I have to stop tearing open these wounds. I have to stop killing myself from the inside out. We’ll see what happens when she comes…visit is scheduled for April 6.

From → BLOG

  1. Hang in there! Forgive yourself, too. ~J


  2. …sends my soul to a benthic death beneath a deluge of pain…If I want to be forgiven, I must forgive…
    From that first extreme (which was beautifully worded) to the other, I have no doubt that you have what it takes (a mind, soul, and heart full of honesty and truth) to recover and rebuild. You can do this…rooting for you!


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