Addiction Rules Your Life

I want a new life. I want to be someone else. When I think of all of the things that I have done to myself over the years, I cry. Drugs, sex with random people, alcohol, fights, it all adds up, and it all subtracts from my lifespan. I've suddenly fallen in love with life, which I'm sure will be short lived, and I have stopped myself short of doing things that I know I'd regret.

I was hurting the other night and I went to see Byron, my drug dealer, for some morphine. He was really sympathetic. More so than a drug dealer should be. I took the morphine before I left the parking lot. Driving home semi-high was a mistake. Coming home in general, to a house with kids, was a mistake. Buying the morphine was a mistake. Taking the morphine was a mistake. I wanted pills to swallow, but all Byron had were injections. Cost me over one-twenty to get it.

Yesterday I had withdrawal all damned day. I needed a cigarette. I needed more morphine or heroin. Today I'm not so bad, but it's not going to last. I'm going to need a hit sooner rather than later.

Addiction rules your life. Once you get into it, being weak, you may never get out. I am one of those people who will never recover from this. I try and I try and I never seem to recover from drug addiction. I always will call Byron, until the police catch him, and then I will graduate onto another dealer. I never thought I would live like this. I never thought that I would live so long doing this. When I took that first hit, I thought I would just try it and then never touch it again. Or that I could do it whenever and I wouldn't need it. I never thought I would need it.

Days and weeks flew by and I was taking hits every day. I couldn't help myself and I couldn't get enough heroin. I took fentanyl legally, and then I overdosed on it once a month. I took pills. I took too many pills. When I had my daughter, I had access to oxy contin being in quarantine for MRSA the first time, I could have all the morphine and oxy I wanted.

I have friends. I have loved ones. Most of them don't know about my little habit, and the ones who do don't speak to me very often. I'm almost certain that they don't want to know me anymore, and I'm fine with that. I don't go out of my way to make friends with someone. They just naturally want to be friends with me, and I'm grateful for our time together, but if they want to break it off, that's ok too.

I'm going to bed now.

I want a new life. I want to be someone else. When I think of all of the things that I have done to myself over the years, I cry. Drugs, sex with random people, alcohol, fights, it all adds up, and it all subtracts from my lifespan. I've suddenly fallen in love with life, which I'm sure will be short lived, and I have stopped myself short of doing things that I know I'd regret.

I was hurting the other night and I went to see Byron, my drug dealer, for some morphine. He was really sympathetic. More so than a drug dealer should be. I took the morphine before I left the parking lot. Driving home semi-high was a mistake. Coming home in general, to a house with kids, was a mistake. Buying the morphine was a mistake. Taking the morphine was a mistake. I wanted pills to swallow, but all Byron had were injections. Cost me over one-twenty to get it.

Yesterday I had withdrawal all damned day. I needed a cigarette. I needed more morphine or heroin. Today I'm not so bad, but it's not going to last. I'm going to need a hit sooner rather than later.

Addiction rules your life. Once you get into it, being weak, you may never get out. I am one of those people who will never recover from this. I try and I try and I never seem to recover from drug addiction. I always will call Byron, until the police catch him, and then I will graduate onto another dealer. I never thought I would live like this. I never thought that I would live so long doing this. When I took that first hit, I thought I would just try it and then never touch it again. Or that I could do it whenever and I wouldn't need it. I never thought I would need it.

Days and weeks flew by and I was taking hits every day. I couldn't help myself and I couldn't get enough heroin. I took fentanyl legally, and then I overdosed on it once a month. I took pills. I took too many pills. When I had my daughter, I had access to oxy contin being in quarantine for MRSA the first time, I could have all the morphine and oxy I wanted.

I have friends. I have loved ones. Most of them don't know about my little habit, and the ones who do don't speak to me very often. I'm almost certain that they don't want to know me anymore, and I'm fine with that. I don't go out of my way to make friends with someone. They just naturally want to be friends with me, and I'm grateful for our time together, but if they want to break it off, that's ok too.

I'm going to bed now.