It was an accident. A headache, a load of illicit painkillers, I was still sick with rage at getting fired so treating myself far more roughly than usual, I knocked back a few pills a bit like I’d yank on a hank of my hair in frustration, a sort of ‘get your shit together’ and then a couple more. I truly, truly had no idea that would happen. I’ve taken more pills than that in one go just to get to sleep.
I don’t want to write or think about exactly what followed. I want to scrub the next four months completely from my life but I can never do that. Let’s just say it was a domino effect of repeating some of my worst moments (relationship) and some new ones (nearly homeless) thinking I was getting a change of fortune (she took me back, I got a new job) then repeating some more awful moments (she immediately started getting frustrated and snappy with me…. I wonder why…) and adding a few new ones (the new job was literally nothing like it was described, I never thought working from home could be that bad but I was literally crying almost every day until my gf told me I was making the house hard to live in- please don’t judge her for that. She’s NOT cruel. She’s the opposite. She was just so exhausted and I was still doing my drugs despite dying briefly and the bit that I didn’t want to say before was that she found me. She found me and I don’t know how the hell I can ever make that right) and then I got fired from the job I got to replace that one (for being late on 1 day, not asking enough questions- to be fair to me, I didn’t have questions, it was really not a difficult system- ‘lagging behind’ meaning I had 3 pieces of paperwork left (to give this perspective, each piece takes literally 1 minute each to enter and I had three left cause guess what, I actually did have questions about the contents of the entries but it was too late by then) seeming tired and literally unfocused- my eyes were apparently rolling around like I was about to fall asleep- probably because I was, cause I was really trying not to do sp except I WAS doing it, so also ofc benzos too, and painkillers cause I had my period. I deserved it but it was still fucking horrendous. Reprieve though: my gf didn’t break up with me and was totally sympathetic) all the while scarcely changing a single damn thing to see if maybe that would stop things repeating – until I suddenly did.
I stopped doing drugs. Threw my speed down the toilet if you can believe it (OK, I left enough for 1 more day but the point is I stopped when my life for the past 4 years has revolved around it). The painkillers and tranx took a bit longer but…. Now I’m off them too. I did it ultimately for love. I want to work again without being high off my face and believe in my own competence, I want to have my interests back, I want to interact with others like I used to, I want to earn money and not pour it all away, but the real reason was, always, my girlfriend.
Which is just as well cause everything else is in a state so fkng sorry its hard to bear. Things are awesome with my girl but oh my god the fallout of the last 4 and a half years…. No job. Memories of catastrophic failure that are going to follow me for the REST OF MY LIFE. Utter shame. My gfs friends must absolutely despise me. No money. Nothing to do with my days. I’m past the withdrawal fatigue but it’s so hard to get out of bed cause… Why? Just to be cold? I’m just watching the time pass and pass and its such a WASTE but what do I do except keep applying for jobs and get nowhere and hope and hope and dwell on my abuser and that ***** Sarbjit and how much I hate them and rake over old memories and not leave the house, I only leave the BED for appearances sake and I’m actually GLAD when I get my period even though it’s horrible cause at least that’s sn excuse to stay in there.
I’ve lost all faith in myself. I’ve lost almost everybody. I’ve got very nearly nothing left. And without drugs- even though I am truly glad to be off the- I can feel every miserable bitter molecule of loss and shame and self-loathing. I don’t want to die, I don’t think. But I’m giving nothing to the world. It would be better off without me. I hope so much that soon that won’t be true any more, I hope that so much. But right now it is. I’m worthless, I hurt people, I’m useless. I died in November and I’m so close to wondering if maybe I should have stayed dead.
No, no I don’t mean that. I don’t, not really. I’m just feeling so lost and I’m raging at myself and my own idiocy. I feel branded. Like the disgustingness of me is burned in. But I’ve got through this before. I have to do it again. But compared to what could have, what DID happen? This is better. I feel so very bad, but there has to be a bad part to get through. Please let me get better. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done wrong. Please please please help things get better.