Howdy there
fellow revellers in this continual procession which is life. How is the world treating you? I was so
bored yesterday that I went to bed at 4pm in the afternoon. This is happening
more and more, this early to bed lark, and I seem powerless to stop it. Don’t
get me wrong, I’m not hating it as I used to, I’m not depressed about it like I
used to be, it’s just one of those things which I’m rolling along with. It
could be worse; I could be locked up in a
mental unit, or have no arms or legs, or be in a war zone. I’m just waiting
for payday, which isn’t until next week, so I’ve got a long time to suffer
brassic-ness yet. They may as well pay me in cocaine at the moment; that seems
to be all I need. That, and a few meals and drinks in the pub. Unfortunately, I
can’t afford both. What would you rather have?
The facilitator
in Peer Support group told me off the other day for glorifying drugs. That’s a
rule in Pathways (Change Grow Live): No Glorification. The saying goes that if it was all that good, then none of us would be
sat here in recovery, and wishing we weren’t. I thought therapy would be
like that, talking about all the good times, but apparently it’s verboten
(forbidden). Who doesn’t like a decent warts ‘n’ all yarn about alcoholism and
drug addiction? One time I fell asleep with my electric blanket cranked up all
night after downing a bottle of whiskey, I was so dehydrated in the morning, I
felt like I’d been cooked alive, only bacon butties and pop can help a
situation like that.
I described snorting coke as like
eucalyptus on the brain, and got told off. I was just been honest. On the other hand, drug
taking is seedy and dark and nasty, with nothing positive about it whatsoever. The
dealers are vermin to some, flooding our streets with poison and enslaving
millions of young people by stealing away their free will and future. I know a
guy in recovery, right, he’s about 16 years clean, I call him The Sheriff
because he’s The Sheriff of Recovery; anyway, he says that all he would do with
a bag of beak is spit on it. I wish I was like that. At the moment, I want to
indulge in fat white stripes and watch porn on it. Wild, isn’t it, how two
minds can vary? I went six months without
it last year, I was doing really well, but I was using amphet in the meantime.
I remember
the kidney pain I had towards the end of last summer, possibly through the phet
use. Wow, that was ever-so bad. I couldn’t stand up, couldn’t sit down, couldn’t
lie, couldn’t do nothing. It was atrocious. I was just squirming around, like
an eel lying on hot drawing pins. Thanks be to God that he took that pain away
from me, and hasn’t returned it since. I really don’t miss the phet at the
moment. The dehydration is insane when you go into the sexual trances I enter,
and it messes with your mental health something chronic. So bollocks to that
happy crappy – at least until my dealer gets out of prison! Right then, okay, I’m
off for a couple of pints in the pub, then it’s off home to enjoy some chicken
in white sauce and rice! And bed early – again…
Apologies if
it feels like I’m glorifying drugs here at the blogspot. That’s not my
intention. I wouldn’t wish them on my son, and if they happened to him I’d tell
him to simply enjoy. We can’t all have careers and families and other saving
quantities in our lives, can we, so we ourselves, and both the godless, turn to
drugs. I’m misshaping my beliefs around them at the moment, I believe that they
may be just harmless comfort for the vulnerable. Probably wrong there like! The
stuff we tell ourselves!
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