That one night / morning broke me. I haven’t been the same since and I know it. Why would anybody want to fucking stay with a nobody like me? What is there to gain, when I have nothing left? I’ve distanced myself from every one I used to know. Those who, for whatever reason, remain can’t seem to tolerate my existence. I know I fucked up my heart this last time. The sharp jabbing chest pains and irregular beat gave it away. I was so afraid that if I allowed myself to fall asleep, I would no longer be there in the morning. But what am I afraid of? What am I any good for? There’s no fight left.Might as well off myself.
I can't help but think I'm part of some sick and twisted social experiment.
The high isn’t the same anymore. It lacks the initial rush. The euphoria. What made me feel everything good, all at once, as though my soul were flying high above my body. The cravings no longer exist. In their place lies a distaste for withdrawals. It breaks my mind, yet somehow keeps me sane. It’s become a love / hate relationship, but for some reason I don’t want to end it just yet. This sugarcoated poison’s managed such firm grip around all that I am, all that I thought I was, that I can’t even trust my own thoughts. I’m almost certain every ounce of willpower I so highly valued has been laid to rest. I feel empty, much like an abyss. Passion used to effortlessly fuel the expression paired with desire. Now it seems every dull muted sense of feeling and inspiration has been buried alive. What remains is nothing but a shell of the person I once was. What kills me most is knowing it’s not only hurt me, but the one I care for and love most. The last thing I want is to drain them of their own energy, but it seems as though no matter how hard I try, my own carelessness continues to burden their lives, depriving them of well-deserved happiness. I cause unnecessary pain and hinder their own state of mind, when those were never my intentions to begin with. On the contrary, I wish I could be the antidote to their pain. The solution to all their problems. I want so badly to give this person the world, everything that they were never given before. They are my reason.
I’m in absolute love with a fucking substance. I’ve learned who my real friends are through using. Those who give up on me aren’t worth my time. Those who choose to stick around and ride with me are the ones I will sacrifice for. Fuck it — Live life in the fast lane; automatic. Chasing dragons ‘till tolerance proves otherwise. Keep those hot-rails coming and keep me high, keep me high, keep me high.
He hurt me, I hurt him. We both fucked up. I think that’s something we can both agree on. He says communication is key, yet he’s inadvertently too naive to realize that that’s an aspect I tend to fall short on. Not necessarily a weakness (As I try my best to always be verbal when it comes to intentions and expressing them freely), but considerably not one of my strong suits. What happened has happened. It’s all been said and done. It’s in the past. Taking it as a learning experience, I can see us moving past this. However, what we must ask ourselves is “Did it alter the relationship? Will things ever be the same?” Personally, from where I’m standing, the moment my eyes registered betrayal, that connection was lost in translation — Without hesitation. When it boils down to it, Biggie said it best… "I don’t chase ‘em, I replace ‘em". So goodbye Josh; hello Harvey. This is the oldest guy I’ve been with yet. Not gonna lie, at one point I found myself aggressively questioning what in the fuck I was (/am) even doing, but somehow, I feel inclined to say that things might be different with this guy. Perhaps I’ve been abusing the meaning of the word “different” and throwing it out into the open too much or too soon, but truth be told, I personally feel my heart’s in the right place, and judging by what this dude’s shared with me so far, I might not be the only one. This world would be nothing without hope, would it not? So here I am, maintaining my head above water, taking chances, and actually making an effort to have at least a little faith. Learn to take your own advice and perspectives are subject to change. If things fall through, then oh fucking well. Nothing new, nothing wasted, just additional knowledge to broaden and help shape me into the person I’m ultimately destined to be. Granted, although even the notion of a predetermined disposition is something I’ve never been too comfortable with, I’m fully aware that whatever may come, comes naturally; there is no preventing truth. The vibe I’ve received from the energy that’s been contributed strikes me as genuine and sincere. We both know where the other stands in regards to what we want and what we would like for it to be considered. I like that sense of solidarity and I’m glad we’ve clarified terms. Of course, I do realize I could be proven wrong just as easily as any of the countless times before, but alas, I’m only human. The way I see it, I’m better off simply letting things happen and just rolling with the punches. My subconscious continues to cavalierly dismiss years of jading, treating the gradual emotional deterioration as nothing more than a glitch. Fatuously embedded desires anticipate even the mere potential for stability. Reaching out to grasp, but never getting a good grip. It knows no rest. Rationalize open interpretations of intimacy and all its forms. Always looking for love in all the wrong places… But god would I be lying if I said the chase wasn’t such a thrill.
Wow jk I passed out shortly after that last post. Not a pleasant combo, however. My heart rate kept slowing down and then speeding up.
On a more positive note, I should be getting my Cobalt back today after work and then possibly signing an apartment lease with the best friend, yea-yuh!
Welp. That was a bust. Promethazine proved to be utterly ineffective. Time to down sleeping pills and Hydroxyzine. Wish I hadn’t run out of Trazodone a while back, that shit would knock me into next week. Oh well, here goes nothing.
My god, going to work all gaked up is the most exhilarating way to help pass time, not even gonna lie. No one even thinks twice about pupil dilation, much less my behavior, considering I’m all over the place even when I’m sober. Every task just feels so rewarding, I can’t get enough. Though ever since I over-amped last time I’ve been entirely more cautious when it comes to pacing myself, re-upping every couple hours with bumps instead of lines. Still working on training myself how to eat, though. That’s something I’m going to need to learn how to manage, if I want to keep from inducing psychosis. Although it may not be the healthiest alternative to benzos, 4 sleeping pills do the job when I’ve had enough and require rest. Now let’s see how well promethazine works, cause it’s about time I got a few hours of shut-eye in… Fingers crossed.