curbside puddle reflection # 7

Off of heroin for a little while, now…  I find I don’t really notice how long, without really thinking about it.  Probably because I’m not accumulating "clean time" like someone in NA or AA would.  I smoke pot – it helps me eat, and hold down food.  And, I occasionally take script drugs that are not prescribed by a doc because I need something for my stomach, and I don’t want to go to the hospital.  No opiates, or opiods, but they are still strong drugs and must be handled with care. 

Had a strange and lengthy tallk with someone I care about last night.  Some good, some bad…  I guess, there are still things to hash out there, but it will all work out, in time.

The people we love can hurt us so much more than anyone else could ever manage.   They know where to aim and how hard to hit.  But of course, the same people often hurt us, without meaning to – just trying to love us, the best way they know how.  And, there’s always thoughtlessness…

An old dealer called today – I guess, he was just trolling through old numbers.  He asked if we were still done with all that, and I said "yes."  He said he had some really good sh*t (for starters, I have my doubts about that – his sh*t was never the best, anyway).  I was like, well, if I need it, I will let you know. 

Later, I was ranting on about how I felt better about things, this time around, with the kick, an everything.  Trying to convince myself, I guess…  just thinking out loud, about how this was different, because I am getting medical care for my psych issues, I am supported by people on DT, and I am improving myself / my life (even if slowly) by staying constructive and creative during this transition.  I mentioned that I had a bad moment yesterday, at a drug store, when the girl in front of me in line at the pharmacy was picking up compazine, an antibiotic, and for some reason (one made a little more obvious upon glancing at her arms – she had the marks of a vein injector – not an intramusclar injector, like a diabetic) ahe ordered syringes.  The same bag I used to buy – 10 1/2 in. tip, 1cc, 29 gauge syringes.  I walked away – felt even sicker than I had.  Looked at some make-up to distract myself, then, hurried to get Charlie’s attention – there was an issue with my script that was going to take a little time to clear up, but we had to get out there.  We went back for the meds, later.  It was a passing impulse.  But, whatever.  I was ranting on, and I asked Charlie if it was bothering him, my going on about all this.  He said, "no, but I wouldn’t go on and on about it."  I got quiet.  He said, "I didn’t mean you had to stop talking, now."

I never know what people really want.

I said, "I just feel better about it, this time.  That’s all."

He said,"me too."

And, then, it was quiet.

" Do You Realize – that you have the most beautiful face
Do You Realize – we’re floating in space –
Do You Realize – that happiness makes you cry
Do You Realize – that everyone you know someday will die

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes – let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It’s hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn’t go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round"

 (The Flaming Lips, "Do You Realize?")

 

   

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