Well, I just took a handful of Tylenol PM, so hopefully that will do something for me tonight. I've been going a little crazy, if none of the previous posts have alerted you to that obvious realization. It's really quite something when you have so much to say, yet either don't know how to put thoughts to words, or more bizarrely worry about what you say. I would really like for this to be as open as possible, but there's still things that I don't even like to think about myself. It's just a bit of an inconvenience to have to hold on to those thoughts, swallow them, and let them rot in your stomach. Maybe that's why my stomach is turning?
I just realized while sitting outside and feeling the imminent end of the world, that I would be very comforted by any illicit substance. However, I decided to out my thoughts on here as a "you better fucking not", given that these fucking pesky little voices in my head have certainly led me there before, and we see how that worked out. An absolute and complete riches to rags story. I really did have it all at one point, I really truly believe that. I was pretty fucking set. Now... well you all know where I'm at now. It's certainly terrible.
It's not only my emotional situation that's wearing on me, but everything else that comes with it. I am certainly not eating like I should be, I'm not sleeping well at all, I shouldn't be crying on a nightly basis. All of this leads me to believe that what I'm doing may not exactly be the proper course of action. I would much rather just dive right back in, get a job, and just go back on the grind. When you do that, you don't have time to worry about things. That's the gift of life! You stay busy, and you don't have to bother yourself with these episodes.
But, I really don't believe that either. I was also reading today (though I'm not going to find the exact quote, I don't even have the ambition to eat) and I've come to really respect the thought of life as finite. I always loved the notion that "my only comfort in life is assured death", but I don't mean to worry anybody with a sense that I'm undeniably morbid. Rather, I feel that when the end does come, it will be a relief. Which brings me to my next passage, which I actually marked the page of, for ease of recounting. Russel Brand remarks, quite wonderfully:
"I've got this sense in me sometimes that perhaps death will simply be blissful - an endless expanse of nothingness, which might be a great relief from the tyranny of life's minutiae."
My biggest dilemma with getting "back on track" is the unrelenting feeling that I can never get back to where I was. I begin to think of all the troubles and obstacles that are stacked in front of me, and can't even fathom what I would have to do in order to get over them.
For this next chapter, I just want to create as many diversions for myself as I can. That will be my ticket. I'll just keep myself completely distracted, and then maybe one day I'll wake up and realize, "Hey, I've made it". This theory is flawed, but I have to grasp on to any hope I can, be it fantasy or not.
Another part of the book that I enjoyed:
"Ever since the first couple of times I'd taken it, in my early twenties, I'd always maintained a great interest in heroin. I'd sort of fallen in love with the warmth of it - the way it felt like crawling back into the womb. I always knew it'd be the one, because it was the only drug that did what was promised... What it mainly does is take you right out of reality, and plant you somewhere more manageable. In short, it contextualizes everything else as meaningless."
"It makes you feel lovely and warm and cozy. It gives you a great, big, smacky cuddle, and from then on the idea of need is no longer an abstract thing, but a longing in your belly and a kicking in your legs and a shivering in your arms and sweat on your forehead and a dull pallor on your face."
Well, that cozy feeling would certainly benefit me, and I wouldn't feel like jumping off the nearest bridge (don't worry, I won't), but in the end, it's a completely terrible way to deal with things. I mean, it's certainly the best way, but the consequences make it into the worst.
I'm glad I got that off my chest. I don't think I have ever really gotten into drugs on here. I hope nobody is offended. If you are, feel free to discontinue your readings.
Goodnight all.
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