I was up late last night. A scene in the show I was watching triggered me. I was too tired and high to notice it’s full effect, despite crying myself to sleep, which is a semi-normal thing for me. What scares me is waking up unable to breath and my mind running around in circles in what I hope was a dream, but could be a memory. I don’t want to entertain the thought of that being true so I’ll tell myself it was a dream and hug myself staring at nothing until I find my rhythm of breath again.
I look at my arms, It’s never completely dark, and refrain from touching my veins. I’m a junkie, hauled up in my parents’ house to hide from the life that wants me. I’ve dabbled enough there…enough that I’m afraid to go outside. I trace my fingers over my veins… so many, so soft and ready. I wouldn’t care if I died that way. If I ever try again, that’s probably what I’ll do. After snorting and smoking myself into oblivion, injecting is the only logical course of action.
Up in some trap house with some guy I just met putting a needle in my vein… nah.. it wasn’t a dream…
My friend left me there when I wanted to leave… that guy I just met made me go with him when I wanted to stay. I was too high to fight or reason…not to mention his size and manner was intimidating to say the least…and it didn’t matter because at the next destination he’d get me too high to even remember I never wanted to leave.
And I had actually convinced myself that damn drug would be a good thing if i used it properly…
At the first chance i realized i had to leave, I did.. I found myself at the same trap house but a different apartment, wondering what I would be doing to repay this meth-head’s kindness.. but he actually just left me in his apartment alone to sleep, something about a religious-like duty to serve others’ needs. Coming down alone isn’t something that’s good without weed… I heard and believed some insane things. I heard voices say they were connecting with me telepathically, the main one being the friend who had left me. Another, a junkie threatening to kill me.
Voices in my head, voices sounding like they were coming from the street.. I would look out the window and retreat to a voice saying “see? she can hear you”. All logic at this point is gone, because of how real everything sounds and the fact that I’ve forgotten that I haven’t slept in days. So i talk to them…By the time the room owner returned I had had a nap and had stopped hearing things… maybe he knew I was coming down and that’s why he left me? I’ll never know.
That same place i started off at, where my friend left me, I reconnected with that rooms owner at the park and went back with her to get my things. She was ok.. thats why I didn’t want to leave in the first place. Everything was fine until he returned, I guess his supplier was there, and honestly, I don’t remember how I ended up following him again but..I guess that’s meth… He sold my things… and the next thing of significance that happened I have some trouble talking about… So that’s enough for now. Time to get super high and pretend it was all a dream.