I don’t want advice.

I don’t want advice.  I don’t even know if I want someone to listen.

I don’t know who to talk to.   I don’t know who would care.

I don’t even care if anyone cares.   I don’t know of anything that can help me.

Maybe getting some of this out, and telling complete strangers about me, might help. It  seems to have helped others on this site.

I am have a duel-diagnosis; I am a recovering meth addict, I have severe A.D.H.D, anxiety, and depression.

My family has a strong history of mental illness, which I have been oblivious and ignorant to in some ways, but has caused me to be obsessed with the mind. I have studied obsessively since I was 14 about psychology, psychiatry, hypnotherapy, pharmacology, psycho-pharmacology, neurology, and many others I don’t recall the names of.   I knew, but never said it aloud, that all I was looking for was the answer to why I was the way I was. How come I was so different, what made me different? What could I do?

I’ve been in counseling, therapy, seen a psychiatrist, and studied psychology on my own, and in college now.  I know every “tool” to use, I know every wishy-washy vague guess at an explanation (WHICH IS ALL THAT IS POSSIBLE TO GIVE SOMEONE) for the reason you’re fucked up in the head.

I even spew the same bullshit to my friends, and people in my groups at treatment, when they talk about their problems. They all believe I know this shit, and it must be working. I know it front to back.  It’s not working. Nothing is working.

I got addicted to meth at 18, used heavily for a year and a half. Within the first six months I was shooting up.

It was, and honestly will remain to be, the most incredible feeling and experience I have had.  Of course, it came with a price. We all know the miserable road that addiction takes you down, and it certainly took me there. Was the experience worth what I lost? Certainly no. But I can’t rewind time, I can’t take it back. And I do not regret it.

But I have been in treatment for over a year, been in a strict rehabilitation program that literally saved my life.  I have found myself an amazing boyfriend who treats me right.  I am going to school, I am financially stable, I  have good friends, and never ending resources of any kind of support I may need.  I have continued to learn and obsess about the mind and why people are the way they are.

I should be happy.  I just want to be content.

I am miserable inside. I feel like I am a burden on my wonderful boyfriend, because I am either a cranky *****, or an emotionless zombie because of my medication. I don’t feel pretty anymore.  ( I sound pathetic reading this to myself. I hate people like me, I make fun of emo people. I make fun of everyone.)

I just want to escape myself. That is the classic thought of an addict. I always just want to escape my reality.

But this time is different. This time is very bad.

I don’t want to use.

I don’t want to get high.

I don’t want to shoot up.

I don’t want to drink.

None of it is going to make this feeling go away.

I see a psychiatrist, my medication is supposed to be helping me.

I’m only getting worse.

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

I’m too afraid to brutally kill myself.

But my depression has evolved, and I have figured out how I will kill myself, if I ever come to the point of no return.

I have never shot up heroin before.

I will make sure that I overdose.