I want to give up and die. I can’t stop sobbing. If I had anything sharp within reach, I would have already gone to work on my arm. I’m eye-balling some pills, and contemplating worse. I am in pain in every sense of the word. I just need this to stop, whatever that takes.
I can’t stand myself.
I am in such a terrible spiral, and I feel so alone. No one wants to put up with this. No one wants to deal with this. I don’t want to deal with this. I alienate people, and my life is going nowhere in a big hurry – just draining past. I am such a waste. I don’t deserve to find my way. I don’t deserve any help or breaks. I cannot construct anything in my reality that’s worth staying off smack. Anything I try to build doesn’t get built, or falls apart short of completion. (I can’t hold onto anything good – I push people away, and alienate them with my nuttiness). Why shouldn’t I be a [email protected] junkie? It’s who I was for the better part of seven years. I know ho to survive that way.
But, as I got older, it would get uglier. And, it’s already been pretty ugly – I know that.
Maybe a short run, getting high steadily, followed by a quick death. Probably an overdose. Wouldn’t take much since I have been off so long. Maybe $60 bucks or so… maybe a little more, but not much more. I’d probably do at least $80 to be sure. I don’t even know if any of my old numbers still work. But, I could just jep calling until one does.
Or, maybe I should just skip all the fun and games, and cut right to it. I DO NOT WANT TO EXIST, RIGHT NOW. I feel so alone, and so unwanted by the people I care about (my friends, Charlie, ect.). I feel so broken and unneeded. Nothing would really change if I were gone. People would be better off.
Sometimes, I just want to be with my daughter. She’s been gone for a decade. She never had the chance to be who she was. I did all I could to make myself healthy while I was pregnant. I stayed away from everything harmful – quit smoking, and wouldn’t even take Tylenol. No caffeine, no second hand smoke… no drugs that didn’t come from the doc, and I followed the prescibed diet meticulously. (I was underweight at the start of things – had to eat a special diet, but i did so methodically). But, it did not matter. Born too soon with underdeveloped lungs… she died the day she was born. Sometimes… our best efforts… just aren’t enough.