twiinklex ❤

On drugs

All references to drugs in this post are metaphorical. I am not on crack… not literally, anyway.

Spent the whole day reading Love, Rosie (movie made me cry and I have a feeling the book will rip me into pieces) and watching movies. So therapeutic… definitely could do with more days like this.

Was back at work for the week in light of recent events and my course resumes next week. Nice eating with my colleagues again… I laughed so hard that I spat out my drink at Kumar and Estelle on two occasions. Omg I’m so gross and easily amused around people I adore.

On Friday I ordered this and did a double take at the huge portion. Then the stall assistant asked, “Enough?” which I couldn’t tell was a serious question or not. I didn’t even ask for more… All I asked was to swop the bread and salad (who wants to eat that crap? Not me) to soup and colesaw. To which he answered, “Only for you can.” Lol ok.

Ok mundane rant up ahead. You will no idea what it is but I just need to let it out.

I’m tired all the time and I don’t feel fucking functional at all. So much for feeling like less of a wreck. The emotional strain is so much that it is taking a physical toll on me. I just want to feel okay again.

It’s funny… Remember when I was upset in January? I’m actually miserable over something else now. Yet up till last year I was so happy and felt like I had everything going for me. It’s not that life isn’t good now… Still got my job and travelling and all that makes me happy. I just don’t feel good.

I feel like I am on drugs. I am happy and high on adrenaline for like one day of the week, then I start to slowly fall apart over the next few days, drowning in insecurity and the desire for more. Then I resolve to pick myself up, be functional and cool as a cucumber, convince myself that I’m strong and I’ll be fine. That I’ll be okay. Sometimes I do feel okay. But the cycle just repeats itself all over again.

Hahaha I’m a joke and disappointment to myself. Surely I am better than this.

I guess not, because I don’t want to stop taking drugs. Can’t stop. It’s a lonely journey of more lows than highs with no possibility of an outcome, except for bad ones maybe. Yet whatever little highs there are seem to make all the pain and misery worth it.

It’s toxic. So why do I do this to myself? Other than the fact that I’m selfish, weak, cowardly, spineless and have zero self-control (just look at the way I shop). Some days I actually think I deserve to feel this way for being such a terrible person.

I know I willingly walked into this (no regrets) but just because I know what I signed up for, doesn’t make things any easier. It’s so fucking hard even when I expect so little… and sometimes I make it worse by allowing hope to slip in.

I am not even going to kid myself that things will get better. It is as good as it gets now and will probably only get worse. It might get better after shit hits the fan and I survive that. I guess I will. I always do. Imagine dying from an overdose though…

My philosophy even when not drunk. And yeah, I don’t want to kick the drug habit… So just pretend you never read this post because I don’t want / need / deserve help.

Feeling dead on the inside and I think it’s starting to show on the exterior too. Is this what actual drug addicts feel like? Going to distract myself by planning my next holiday.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, March 29th, 2015 at 1:28 am and is filed under Photographs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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