I seem to stumble on this website at the oddest hours of night.Â
It’s only 4:43AM, and I can’t sleep. This is a self induced insomnia. For the first time in ages I scored Adderall and I felt like myself this evening. All good things come to an end, I’m facing the enviable come down. Maybe it’s my brain reeling from the dopamine flood it just endured. I’ve just gotten to thinking that being a depressed addict is probably one of the worst illnesses in the world. Use to live, and when the dope runs out, curl up and die.
It makes me nostalgic. I miss when I was a happier person, a smiling child. Bathed in ignorance. But here I am, laying next to my mother tweaking my ass off. It reminds me of the way I lost the only person I have ever loved to my own selfishness. Heroin addiction took it’s toll on my best relationship, and I was left alone immediately after I came back from rehab. That really shook me, probably in the deepest places of my heart and mind. I’ve never fully recovered from that.
I miss a lot of things, but I miss her the most. A reason to live suddenly stripped away to nothing but a stranger. I should be glad she got away from me, but I ache to think about my mistakes. The worst kind of hurt is knowing you had a choice to prevent it.
Traversing seas of empty faces in a cold world really sucks without having something to look forward to. This is where I am: the numb, the hurt that noIt even death can cure. I’m well beyond tears and jaded past my years (OOO rhyme). It sucks that opening up to people is so difficult because of the masks that I wear, to assure everyone but myself that I’m okay.
But I’m not.
I never will be.