so it has been a minute. a few days composing a few weeks almost rounding out a month. my apologies to whomever might care. life is life is life. and here i am again. after a sabbatical during which i learned nothing new and pleasantly reminded myself that in all actuality i dont like knowing what Im thinking or what i might think Im feeling. bah.
no days clean. thats where Im at. up north managed to stay loaded with the exception of a day, the hours of which i dont think could even be rounded up to 24 hours. my band managed to play an inpromptu show at the end of a cul-de-sac. a decent number of folks showed up considering the late notice and i think a good time was had by all despite the show being more like a rehersal than a show.
we returned back south. home. to ventura. where we continued to stay loaded. the in-laws came over for dinner, with my parents and my brothers and a travelling brother-in-law, at our place. just after dinner i did the rinse. after which i could not - for the death of me! - keep my goddamn fucking eyes open. during the moments i could keep them open they certainly werent in focus. nor open all the way. i failed at solving the opposite problem with my mouth, which i couldn't - for the life of me! - keep closed. two blatant "IM LOADED AS FUCK!" traits. an embarrassing time was had by all, except me due to the complete apathetic state that junk puts me in. the next day the embarrassment caught up to me as i doggy-paddled thru confrontation after confrontation after pseudo-halfhearted-faux intervention.
mom: "is your husband in denial or was he just trying to cover up for you?"
that said with regard to me being loaded & her (luckily!) under the impression that my husband is clean. thank god she thinks he is doing well!
as we near the end of the month the same conclusions as always arise: i wish we had more money. more motivation to live. more enjoyment in our life. i wish we did more. that our lives had more value. that we cared enough to do something to create more value. and all this would probably be possible if we didnt spend every extra dollar on junk.
everything seems to go into our gas tank or into our arms.
well, not my arm because i hit my femoral. but its all the same to me as long as the result is the same. and it is. and after all these years i want a different result. but because life is ok. because i go to work and i go to school and i have a decent relationship with my family and i pay my bills because of all of that because of the lack of emotional despair and the presence of responsible enough living i just dont have the push to clean up. i like checking out once or twice a day. i like getting high. i enjoy shooting heroin and how it makes the few problems i have (do i have problems? really? perhaps i could be a bit more financially responsible. donate to good causes. get new tires for my car. spend money on things that make me feel alive instead of asleep) dissolve in the dreamscape of my nod. Ive tried hitting bottom before & it didnt work. it briefly provided the necessary motivation to stay clean and then when things improved i got high and simply didnt go back to the bottom - being homeless for a year seemed to scar those who love me more than it did me. i dont know if it even was bottom. i had a pretty fucking alright time and enjoyed most of it with the exception of not being able to take nice, warm baths whenever i wanted. certainly learned more about myself and the world than i did from the 3 year spent getting my college degree.
so maybe its just a matter of discipline at this point. when Ive been clean the most important thing i did was not use my brain. anytime i thought : i failed. i couldnt think AND stay clean. i had to just do, without thinking. and as long as i did, and didnt think, i stayed clean. i just dont know if i have the discipline right now to not think, even if itll do me good. its a difficult thing to commit to. where is the middle ground? give me directions and perhaps Ill meet you there next month.
xoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment