#addict

No, I don’t talk about crystal meth a lot. Would you? The world is full of judgmental people ready to label you an addict, conveniently forgetting the substances they funnel into their own bodies, and the reasons they do it. Maybe you’re one of them.

Like you’ve never loaded up on sugar to keep depression from dragging you down. You have never saturated your bloodstream with caffeine to give yourself just one more hour, frantically wasting another sixty minutes of your life. You have never have been swimming in so much alcohol that drowning sounded like a fun proposition.

You have never worshipped a little cylindrical god packed with nicotine, pausing before you lit it to make sure you had at least one more left.

You have never used another person as a tool to hit that orgasmic sweet spot.

In words of my friend DAC: yeah, right.

Another reason I don’t talk about it is because it’s impossible to describe how tweaking feels. I can say that when I shovel a thumb of meth into a can of Red Bull for midnight breakfast, it coasts into me like it’s riding a limousine, but you won’t understand unless you’ve done it. I can say that there’s a little animal that tickles  me with its furry hooves, but it would be meaningless. You won’t understand the high of staying up for three days straight. You won’t understand the thrill of watching the city from a distance-the morning coffee scramble, the screams and fights and sales pitches, the squeals and crashes and depressed laughing, the scrape of shoes and tires, the drunken yawns and stumbling home-and being immune to it all.

It’s impossible to explain what being a vampire feels like.

The main reason I don’t talk about it, though, is because I’m not addicted. There’s a difference between a user and an abuser. I know better than to let a drug take over my life.

1. Forgot a final project for school at home…I live an hour away from school, and I don’t drive.

2. Frantically trying to pull myself at Starbucks, I noticed I was talking to myself…out loud, while people were staring.

3. Working on my laptop at Starbucks, I get up to go to the bathroom…my headphones were still attached to my head.

4. Go to the bathroom at Starbucks…didn’t lock the door, a female police officer walked in.

Have you ever had something ruined because you associate it with a certain someone? I mean whether it be a certain food, a song you shared, a movie you saw, or even a particular place you went together, you generally and slowly begin to hate to see it or even think about it because it will bring up memories of that person or memories you had with it. Luckily my ‘items’ aren’t super common to where I am constantly rehashing bad memories, but they do appear at the most random and unexpected times.

Take the events of this morning for example. First off, Nutella is forever ruined for me, I refuse to eat it and I hate to see it. And this morning I saw it, TWICE! First on the train, which you are not even suppose to be eating, some chick takes a whole jar out of her purse and starts eating it with a banana, like seriously?! Not only did I want to stop her from eating it, I wanted to knock it out of her hands, shattering the jar. And then, not even an hour later, another bitch breaks out a whole jar in Starbucks. Excuse me, this is not a cafeteria where you can bring your own food! What has happen to this world?!  

Regardless of both of these crazies I encountered this morning, I was more bothered that it was Nutella. I never thought that something as dismal as that could have such a huge effect on my mood. But it does, so much that I am obsessing over it still. GAH.

It has now been a full 80 DAYS of me, myself and I being sober and clean.Now, yes I am still very new and very fragile, but that certainly does not mean I have not already learned more than I ever did, while I was using. And it isn’t like I have even enjoyed all the shit I have learned. For instance, I could have been sentenced to up to 3 years in prison for possession charges, and at least a sentence of one-hundred days and a thousand dollar fine! Like are you kidding me?! Anyways, trying to avoid all negatives at the present moment, I believe as well that I may have matured a little and am doing a little growing up. A person does not walk through fire and come out the other side not changed, do they? Not that I have ever know.

The past year has been my fire, and I have continued and am still continuing to walk through it. I like to think I may be nearer the end, but nearing my next step in more important, one step at a time. This fire is vicious and unforgiving. It will burn you until you cannot take anymore. It may burn you until you die, but I am not and will not going to let that happen. 

I woke up this morning feeling rather empty. I assumed it was naturally caused by me falling asleep while watching Requiem For A Dream, which although, may be a very well-done movie, it is also highly depressing. Staring aimlessly into the pitch black, I hope that the emptiness inside would disappear if I got up and out of bed. It didn’t. It lingered around with me all morning. While I ate my bowl of Fruit Loops, while I read the headlines of todays Washington Post, and even while I was putting together an outfit that was not to make me look gayer that I already am. And even while I blasted 80’s music while showering for 20 min. And let me say too, that I have been ‘empty’ before, lots. I mean it was the empty you get after you had a one night stand with the guy you dance like a dirty slut with the night before. Or even the type of empty you get after you come down from an amazing high with Tina. But regardless, I hadn’t done any of that the night before. I was just empty. I was at a lost. Food, Madonna, and a shower all had still left me with the same emptiness I had woke up too. What was this?

And now I sit, still empty, still unsure of why.

- Maya Angelou