hope springs eternal…or so i hear.

just a quick note to keep up with myself, my own life. i guess i do this more for myself than for anyone else…catharsis and whatnot.  which i need every now and then.

i was starting to get stuck in that dark mud of depression that sucks me down sometimes. i mean, i suppose its just part of my personality. way before the drugs or the booze, there was the abyss. this endless black hole that i fall into, and just exsist there until i emerge on the other side. i’m sure that is part of the reason i use so much. it’s much easier to bury the pain under narcotics than it is  to face all that shit and deal with it.

so the past few weeks i’ve been having a hard time….it’s been hard to find work out here in the country. and without a substance to keep me occupied, i start to realize things i don’t want to realize. the fact that i’m almost 30 and i have no degree, no job, no money.  i feel guilt for being so dependent on robbie and my parents. i feel like i should be able to care for myself, and do nice things for my mother, my niece. i want to be self sufficient again. i want to be proud of myself again….

these were the feelings i was having the past few weeks. i had applied for a few jobs, had a few interviews…nothing.  so i started looking into getting my cori sealed, which i now know requires a *lot* of time and money…..which made me feel even worse. i mean, 15 years to seal one misdemeanor conviction? or a bank rolled lawyer to pull the strings for me. ha. i’ll get right on that.

so i got a phone call yesterday, from my old boss @ the lumber yard. looking to give me a job. just a few days a week, for now. but just the fact that he would offer me a job after the way i left….it means alot to me.

my addiction ruined this job for  me the last time around. i’m just glad i have a chance to  make it right.

on top of that, i think my mother and i may go up to visit my brother and his family.  aaron will be leaving the army and moving to where his wife’s family is….down south somewhere. so it will be really nice to spend some time with them before they leave. who knows when i’ll be able to make it down there.  and that’s another thing i’m really grateful for, the fact that his wife will let me visit. when, this time last year she wouldn’t even let me have their phone number.

i may not be perfect, and i know i still make bad choices, but i can’t help but feel i’m doing something right at this point. and i won’t hesitate to be happy, or proud of myself.

dope sick love

april 4, 2008

dope sick love

 

Current mood:mischievous

you are what completes me. not the needle not the spoon, not the dope you are my fix and i need you with me to navigate this city void of hope “happy” is so far below how you make me feel. when i’m with you the love we share is the only thing that’s real. the trees the stones the blades of grass, all created from our love. the air i breath the thoughts i believe all born from the womb of our. that smile on your face when i do the happy dance in place, all made from aspect of our love. because our love is all love without start, without end. true love, a piece of god, that we all hold within.  so they can mock and stare at us, sick kids living just trying to  live. hustling to survive, watching good friends die, struggling through waiting for our life to begin. they cut us down because they don’t know, how it is to be a slave to yourself.  to hate what you see in your reflection, to feel you’ve let everyone down. to know for a fact noone loves you and be pretty sure someday you’ll die alone.
when in the most unlikely place, you find the missing piece. the puzzle that has been your life is finally complete. in god’s ironic twist ( what a comedian he is) he suffers from your disease too. but if you see it right, darkness fades to like, and the ending does not have to be trouble.
they have seen the same things, done teh same deeds, hurt the same pepople they love. the understand a way no one else will. and if you take from the past all the lessons that last, there is no limit to where you can go. this love may have started out of the blood and bleach, out of the dopesick came love. and if this feeling can grow through all this pain, fed only on tears, it will thrive in ours for many more years. -

 

 

same story, different title….

so i noticed i’ve been getting some comments on how i haven’t been posting….and i figured it’s only fair to check in.  i’ll be honest, i didn’t really want to talk much about what’s going on in my life. i had been getting some really cruel comments, which i deleted, like a coward i suppose. but to be  honest with you, my friends, without the constant veil of narcotic mist around me, things like insults and death wishes can actually make me cry.  but i thought about it for a while, and decided, fuck it. if i can’t be honest here, where  can i be? so let’s get it all out on the table.

more often than not, i am on my best behavior.  i’m still no angel, but i am doing okay, compared to how i have been in the past.

now that i’m not strung out all the time, my emotional issues have bubbled to the top of my everyday life, like fat being burned off the bone of an old hamsteak.  there have been a handful of times i’ve gotten hammered drunk, and ended up crying by myself the whole time.  things  i haven’t gotten over, traumas i can’t talk about in my everyday life.  a couple of weeks ago i ended up in the woods across the street from my house, on my knees in the grass, full moon over head, screaming at the top of my lungs, looking at the tree my cousin hung himself in.

sometimes, i’ll get so drunk and just sit in the kitchen by myself and listen to music, think about mickey, my dead best friend, and wonder why he couldn’t come to me, instead of killing himself.   and my boyfriend gets all bent out of shape cuz i won’t talk to him about it, but i just can’t. it’s this private pain, and i feel it keeps me close to them….like it’s all i have left of these people i love, and i don’t want to share it with anyone.

and it’s not like it’s only when i get drunk, it’s just unchecked at that point. it’s a constant pain, day in and day out.  but you can just put that on the list of things that make me fuct up.

like my boundary issues with men.  i suppose i could look at it clinically, and say that those issues come from abandonment issues with my father, that constant need to be desired and accepted, loved….like i never was in childhood. blah blah blah. i don’t know why i feel that way, why i want to know i’m desired.  it’s natural on some level.

so i’m in this really nice relationship with robbie now, and everything is going good…but that’s not enough for me, is it? so i’m always pushing the envelope. and i’m not talking about “friends”, cuz i have plenty of them…and that’s normal. i’m friends with alot of my exes, which i know is controversial for alot of people. but that’s just the way i’ve always been. so yes, i was writing to jesse while he was in jail this last time ( i hear he’s out now, but i haven’t heard from him, yet) and yes, casey comes to see me when he’s in town. i really enjoy seeing him when i can. and robbie can’t tell me not to.

robbie puts all this pressure on me, about my past. it really gets under my skin. the fact of the matter is, robbie has only had one girlfriend besides me in his whole life, and she’s his son’s mother. if you have been a fan of my blog, you know i’ve had my fair share of love affairs.  (which i am grateful for, i loved all my exes, always will.  robbie doesn’t get that. i believe  you can have love for people your whole life, and not want to be like them again….you can stay friends, no benefits.

sometimes i feel like he’ll never really trust me, and i don’t even know if he should….point and case: two weeks ago.  my friend elliott, this kid i know from biscuits shows, started talking to me on facebook like daily. i thought it was nice to hear from him, and he came over one day while robbie was at work. i know what y0u’re thinking, and no i didn’t fuck the kid.  but he  has been really flirty. like crossing the line flirty.

i know he’s got a girlfriend, and he knows i live here with robbie…but it doesn’t seem to matter too much.  in my head i say “it’s just flirting” but in my heart i know i wouldn’t want it to happen to me. i am always really hurt when my boyfriends flirt with other girls, nevermind the times i’ve been actually cheated on. but when it’s me doing the flirting, it seems like a harmless little game.  i have to admit i like the attention. i always have. i suppose i always will.  but i don’t mean any harm by it.  it’s not serious to me, i guess that’s why it doesn’t really  matter to me.

but robbie came downstairs a couple of weeks ago while i was on the computer, drunk (needless to say), and found me talking to elliott. i read the messages the next day, and there was nothing on there to make him freak out like he did.  he had been drinking too, and when he saw i was on the laptop,  he grabbed it out of my hands and threw it on the floor.  he started screaming and i started crying and it was a complete scene. half way due to my drunken indiscretion, and half due to his drunken jealously.  eh, what can you do?

but we get along most of the time…..it is what it is.

we go out to the city every now and then, cop some dope and just relax. my friend marc, ( you might remember marc from some of my old posts, kid i used to go boosting with til he ended up doing six years in jail.) has been squatting in the city for a while since he got out on parole. he’s wanted again for failure to complete his parole, so we’ve been spending as much time with him as we can, cuz he’s heading west with the fall tour scene.   he’s got some guys with killer dope out in dorchester, so we take the train up and make a day of it.

i tell you what, i know it’s crazy to feel this way after all the trauma i’ve been through. but on the train on my way to cop, i get those same old butterflies in my stomach, just like old times.  we go to the pricechopper bathroom and i stick that needle in my arm, and all the bullshit just vaporizes. no more pain, no more tears, no more fears or failures. no more loss, no more hope or dreams or reasons to want or need, no loss, no gain. no nothing. and that’s exactly the way i like it.  nothingness….

we went up to the city for the bruins parade, got off, and spent the rest of the day wandering through the gardens, eating soft pretzels, and drinking like 30 raspberry slushi’s. it was a good time, and i don’t care how that sounds.

we do coke from time to time too…which is just fine by me. it’s not the good shit that i used to get in boston, but it’s not confectionary sugar either. it’s not so easy to hide the tracks now that it’s summer, so we only do it like once a month.

i don’t know how much you know about shooting drugs, but it’s fair to say it’s way easier to shoot one bag of dope and get high, than it is to shoot two grams of coke. dope doesn’t dull your needle, and one shot does you just fine…coke dulls the needle like whoa, and you have to turn yourself into a pin cushion  to get off. (a shot every ten minutes)  so that’s a good enough reason to keep me in check….for the time being.

i was getting ready to tell you all about my plans for the future, what i am looking to do in the next few months. but i can hear the hecklers already “you’ll never do any of that” and “you’re just a worthless junky.”  so i think it will be better to show, instead of tell….and when i actually *DO* these things, all you haters can hate all you want…  hehehehe.

so anyway, that’s my life these days. now that i got all this off  my chest, we’ll be in touch more often.  this shit never stops being cathartic…thanks for listening, guys. i appreciate it.

missing you

dear mickey,

a year ago today you left us. i know life was never easy for you, we had that in common.  sometimes it seemed like trouble followed us where ever we went. or maybe we brought trouble with us… but regardless we made life easier for each other for many many years.  you were my best friend since i was 15.  and now that you’re gone, life feels even harder to manuever.  i’m not gonna  pretend like i understand why you had to end your life like that. i know you were in pain. (we both were, for as long as i can remember) and i know you had some problems i didn’t understand, and some i didn’t even know about.  but i wish you had just given me a chance to try and help you through it. i don’t know much about life. but i do know that nothing lasts forever, not even pain, as excruciating as it can be.

i remember the night we met. we were freshmen in high school. but we didn’t go to school together, so we had never crossed paths.  we were both going to  a kids house in my neighborhood to watch a high school band play.  i was a little drunk, as were you. i was walking down the street with friends, and you were coming down the hill on your roller blades.  you ran me right over.  i can laugh about it now, but jesus, i was pissed that night. we both went flying, and as you tried to help me up, i cussed you out something fierce.  i thought you were such an arrogant prick, cuz you kept making  jokes about me taking up the whole street.

i had no idea how that collision would change my life.

after that night we started hanging out. my friends became your friends, and it was the big group of us from then on.

we stayed tight no matter what happened. i knew i could always count on you, and you could do the same for me.  the night i ate that bad acid and i had my psychotic episode, it was you who stayed with me and held my hand until the police showed up at the hospital.  and it was you at my house that morning, sleeping in my bed and telling me the room would stop melting soon. you kept me sane when everyone else abandoned me.

i had your back when emma got pregnant and every one of our friends took her side after the break up.  i stayed home with you at our apartment when everyone stopped speaking to you. and when your daughter was born, i got to witness those precious first moments you had as a father.

when you got deployed to iraq, i was one of the only one of our friends that wrote you on the regular. just like i was the *only* person who wrote to you all those times you went to jail. because i  never wanted you to feel alone.  i guess i failed on that point.

i know you felt like you were in love with me at one point. and it never really went away.  we both know we had something very special, and i suppose i will always wonder what could have been. it’s just that we both know neither of us had a very good track record with relationships, and i was not willing to lose you in my life if things didn’t go well. i couldn’t risk not having you in my life.  and now you’re gone anyway. if i knew then what i know now, i would have done things differently. i know i always loved you, always will. i just wish i had shown you in the way you wanted me to.

remember that one time we ended up together? what a melee that was. we hooked up in boston one day for drinks, ended up smoking crack in fitchburg, and then i showed you how to shoot heroin.  that was the only night we ever slept together. i have so many mixed emotions about that night.  i hate myself for shooting dope with you, but i don’t regret the fact that we had those intimate moments together.

we brought alot of drama when we were together. like the night brian smashed your window cuz he was jealous of us being friends.  or when you girlfriend chased me out of the house because she was jealous of our friendship. i guess maybe everyone saw something that i just didn’t until it was too late.

you were my best friend.  nothing you did could ever make me not love you. and you accepted me when everyone else turned away from me.  when word got out i was a certified junkbox, you still loved me. and i will never ever forget that.

i was in the store the other day, and some guy walked by me and said “what’s up” and i dropped the dog food i was carrying. tears filled my eyes and i couldn’t breathe. i swear on my life it was you. your voice, your face. when i turned around to look again, he was gone.  i feel like that was a gift. just the feeling of having you near me again was so perfect. for that one moment, you were with me again.

i was never mad at you for committing suicide. i was mad at myself for not seeing it. for not being the friend for you that you always were for me. but i realise now that some time has passed that maybe there was nothing i, or anyone could have done. and now all i can do is honor your memory, and love you, until we meet again.

and we will. that is one thing in my life i am sure of. in my heart. you’ll be waiting for me, in the end.

anonymous

for this empty rockstar life

i gave it all away

every unforgettable night

and every endless day

every party favor lost

every love note left behind

every blessed memory

i erased it from my mind

for just one more capful

i lost all i thought i was

i put myself on the auction block

like every good junky does

every prized posession

i couldn’t live without

i packed my life in a cardboard box

turned my back on it, and walked out

my written words, my heart and soul

just faded memories now

the only thing i cared for, lost

and i just don’t know how

i got so lost along the way

forgetting who i am

putting that bag before my self

and now all alone, here i stand

all those hands that i once held

all those smiles just for me

all those star-filled nights

of liquid light

loved faces that i’ll never see

all those bonfire-smoked out hoodies

all those bracelets of candy beads

all those jello shot-stained school girl skirts

all those secret dirty deeds

for a faceless life on heartless streets

i gave it all away

i can’t call you anymore

besides, what would i say?

i don’t have any news for you

nothing you would want to hear

it’s been a long, very lonely time

now it’s mostly just sickness and fear

what i’ve done since then is not living

i may as well not even exsist

each day i just go on pretending

i push through it all, i persist

so it’s easiest to just keep on going

with these nameless, faceless days

waiting for that familiar solace

to take all these memories away

i may not matter anymore

i may have faded away

i may have lost all that i’ve loved

but i’m still sitting here today

dilluted and broken down

alone and full of fear

paying the cost for all days lost

for each moment i had, there’s a tear

you never really realize

what you have until it’s gone

rotten  pages full of mold

and a long forgotten song

faces burned into your mind

voices that still ring so clear

memories of who i was

things i once held dear

nothing lasts forever

and noone stays the same

and these days feel so empty

and noone knows my name

i took all i ever knew

and traded it away

now i’m just that nameless face

on this hopeless endless day

jan 17 2011

—i wrote this after cleaning out my parents basement. i was looking for my journals, only to realize i’d left them at some random house. all my old pictures and keepsakes were full of water damage and mold.  almost everything was destroyed. and i got to thinking about how none of that shit mattered when i was on the streets.  but now that i’m home, i feel like all those things that defined me, my past, are ruined or lost.  not to mention all the friends i’ve lost touch with.  i felt really alone. lost.  so i tried to easy the pain by bleeding the wound. i think it worked.

dull as dishwater daily living

so it’s no surprise that life is not all after parties and keg stands. i am 29 years old…everyone i’ve ever been friends with is either still in boston, raising illigitimate children, or incarcerated.  i’ve only been home for a few months, and i am still @ my mom’s house, so i can’t really expect too much of a social life. not the kind that i’m accustomed to anyway.  and that’s fine with me, for now.  but if you know me at all, you know this suzy homemaker shit is not gonna last. it all boils over in the end.

we went to look @ an apartment downtown (if you can call one street a “down town” area) and it was what i expected @ our price point.  dirty and small, in a questionable neighborhood.  but i am  not the person good citizens want as a neighbor anyway, i’m used to ghetto living.  i kinda like it like that…a little loud, a little grimy.  if i want quiet and calm, i can always come visit my parents.  the guy seemed like he would be an absentee landlord, which is way better than a vigilante prick that’s always up your ass about trash day and stomping up and down the stairs.  i like to have my privacy in my home, mostly because of my ongoing criminal enterprise. hehehee.

but honestly i just would rather be left alone. and it seems like this would be good for me and robbie.  i love my family very much, but sharing a coffee maker, a washing machine and a bathroom with four other people get real old real quick.

i’ve been behaving myself for the most part, there’s no way the feds could make a case against me, put it that way.  it gets boring, playing by the rules….i doubt it will last much longer.   but i’m not stressing it right now.

we are also in the market for a new car…well, not a *new* car, but a  car nonetheless.  which would make life so much easier. on one hand, it would make staying clean better, cuz i can go out and do normal life shit. and on the other hand, if life goes down a familiar road, that’s one step i don’t have to worry about.

not like my master plan is to get a car and a new place just so its easier for me to get strung out again.  i’m not really thinking that far ahead.  i’d just like to feel like an adult again.

sometimes i feel like i’m doing really well.

and other times i feel like i’m swimming in a pool of dirty dishwater, just waiting to go down the drain.

seeing ghosts

it was last friday, my boyfriend was working second shift, as usual, and my parents were on their way to the grocery and wal mart, which is their routine on pay-day.  since i’ve been home, i’m accustomed to going with them.  it’s really the only time i get out of the house, besides with robbie, so it’s something i look forward to.  spending time with my parents is nice too, we get along well, and we make each other laugh.  it’s never dull, and it makes staying home on friday nite seem a little less like torture.

so i’m roaming through wal mart with my mom n dad, and we are picking up little odds and ends.  candles and toothpaste and fabric softener.  i was marveling out loud to my mother how great it was to be able to buy things like that with cash, and not have to steal them.  and how great it was to have a home to put shit like that into.  she smiled.

“it’s nice, isn’t it, sweety?” she just looked at me like i told her “oh by the way, the sky is blue”

we walked over to the pet aisle to get some treats for lily, my dog. (my favorite animal of all time, by the way) and as i walked down the aisle a kid walked by me, and said, “what’s up” like he knew me, nodding his head.

my heart stopped.

tears filled my eyes.

i couldn’t breathe.

i turned around so fast my sneakers squeaked, and i scanned the center aisle for him. but he was gone. vanished into thin air.

isaac.

now i know in my head that isaac has been dead for years. i know that. but i swear on all i love that it was him in that store.  nothing like this has ever happened to me before in my life.  and i have plenty of dead relatives and loved ones i would love to see in visions or apparitions.  i do have dreams about isaac alot. my cousin as well.  but never anything like this.

my mom looked over and saw my pale face full of tears, and she stopped dead. “what’s wrong, kiki?” she put her hand on my arm. i took a deep breath and looked at her. “i just saw isaac.” i felt completely retarded the second it came out of my mouth.  my mom just smiled that same smile, like i had just stated a completely obvious fact. ” that’s good, sweety, that just means he’s looking out for you, and he’s still here loving you.”  she pushed her cart down the aisle. “i see your cousin every once in a while.”  and she picked up a bag of biscuits.

that’s one of the things i love about my mother so much, she’s so willing to accept the unexplainable.  she’s so sure that there is something beyond this life, and it’s a good something.  it gives me hope.

ever since then i’ve felt better. at the time i was so overwhelmed with fear and sadness that i didn’t know what to feel.  but after i talked to my mother i decided she had the right idea…that isaac is just watching over me, messing with my head a little, just like he always did.  that’s one of the things i love about him the most.  my best friend.

family matters

today is my uncle’s birthday. it’s not really a happy day, since he’s dead.  he died driving home drunk from the bar one night a few years ago.  it was scary, how similar uncle john’s death mirrored my cousin john jr.’s.  i mean, john jr. hung himself, and my uncle’s death was an “accident”, but there are other things…

they were both hopelessly addicted.  my cousin to  heroin, like me, and my uncle to alcohol.  they were both the life of the party.  we always had so much fun as a family, but they were alot like me.  they made light of their substance abuse problems so they didn’t have to face the gravity of their situation.  it’s always easier to make fun of yourself than it is to admit you have a problem and work toward change.  besides, with a sense of humor like the one that runs in our family, you can make the most horrific life experiences funny.  (my uncle and my cousin had a running joke about my other uncle’s run with testicular cancer.  it scared us all so much, so while he was recuperating, my uncle john called my uncle kevin “cyclops”, in reference to his procedure removing his left nut.)  nobody wanted to face the reality of my uncle kevin being so sick, so they made a joke.  he got better, and we still laugh about it now.

they were both missing for days.  my cousin out in the woods by himself, snow all around him, swinging from that tree.  i see it in my dreams still.  my uncle submurged in a lake on the new hampshire boarder.  all that water, the fish, the mud.  both of them alone in cold dark places.  i hate having those images. i hate it.

i can still remember those days they were missing.  first my cousin john, just not coming home one day.  we all thought maybe he was just on a bender, three day party or whatever.  but when my mom found out he hadn’t even called me, we knew something was up.  the last time i talked to him, i told him to just go home and call me when he got there, but i never heard from him…it was the last phone call he ever made.  then my uncle just falls of the face of the earth.  it was like some sick deja-vu twilight zone shit.  two identical missing persons posters, two identical search parties.  followed by two horrifying phone calls, and two agonizing funerals.  even in death they were so alike it was scary.

they were both tragic figures i loved very much, and identified with for obvious reasons.  my uncle put himself through college, and made a very good life for himself, in spite of marrying at the age of 17 and having my cousin soon after.  my cousin had his son, john III, around the same age, but the mother of his child was not a woman like his mother, my aunt.  john’s girlfriend was a hot mess, where as his mother was, and still is, a stone-wall of strength.  she made it through the suicide of her oldest child and the accidental death of her husband within two years, and still managed to raise her other son, who is an awesome kid.  john’s girlfriend has been nothing but trouble, and i think his problems with her and the baby contributed to his suicide in a big way.

i was pretty close to my cousin and my uncle. i used to babysit john and his brother when i was 13 or so.  i always had so much fun, and as john got older and he moved into my house, i grew more and more attached to him.  now it’s been so long since he’s been gone, i feel like i miss him more and more.  my uncle was always a person i could identify with, and look up to in some ways.  i mean, the man had problems, but he made something of himself regardless.

there were rumors that my uncle also committed suicide.  he was an insurance adjuster, and although he was at the bar drinking that night, his body was not over the legal limit.  my aunt collected some serious coin when he died.  and everyone knew he blamed himself for john’s death.  he had really gone downhill since the suicide.  john and my uncle had not spoken in months.   since john moved in with us, my uncle had told him there was no future for their relationship.  it hurt them both so deeply, and i guess we all see that now, now that it’s too late.

i just wanted to stop and think about them both for a moment.  i love my family very much, but you always feel closer to some than others. and two of my closest teammates gave up and left me here to finish the game on my own.  i hope i don’t let them down.  even though they did what they did, they never, ever let me down.

triggers

i counted. it’s been about five months since i’ve gotten high… it’s not the longest i’ve ever gone.  but i don’t really think it counts, cuz a little less than half of that i spent in a coma, and in a rehab hospital.  so it’s more like 2 now.  if you know anything about being an addict, you know two things: first, if you are still drinking, or taking meds inappropriately, it doesn’t count as clean time. and second, it doesn’t get any easier to stay clean if you’re not working some kind of program.

the easiest life ever was for me was the six months i had in serious recovery.  but i was in a frame of mind i don’t really understand anymore.  i wanted more for myself, and when the craving to get high hit me, i was scared, not excited. because i knew in my heart how close i really was to falling off the edge, and not wanting to go back.  after falling off the end once, it makes you feel like you’re that much more hopeless to get back on top.

triggers are everywhere.  the places you  least expect it.  i mean, i’m not dumb,  i know there are certain things i should stay away from if i don’t want to have a need-induced aneurism.  ”traffic” the movie was on tv today, and i knew to stay away from it. i don’t watch “intervention” anymore either.  when i’m feeling really masochistic, i’ll listen to velvet underground, or staind.  music to get high to.

but sometimes shit catches you off guard.  like today.  i was watching the sopranos, which i’ve been watching since high school. it was the episode where adrianna is ratting to the feds, and really starting to loose it.  towards the end of the episode, she can’t take the pressure anymore, and she shoots a bag of dope.  (if you are familiar with the show, you know she didn’t start shooting up til right before she got whacked)  so it caught me off guard.  but as she was sticking that needle in her arm, i couldn’t look away. i was transfixed. my heart started to beat rapid-fire, and i broke out in a cold sweat.  it was as if you put an actual gram of dope in front of me, right here on my sofa.  afterwards, i was so shook up i went right upstairs and chugged this bottle of tequila we  had left over from this weekend. i came back downstairs and sat back on the sofa, shaking.  after a few minutes or so, the feeling passed, and here i sit.  not quite well, but certainly not sick.  physically at least.  my head is on turbo spin all the time, what i want, what i need.  i’m in a state of clinical insanity as far as drugs are concerned.  but it made me feel better, the booze.  and that’s the whole point, isn’t it?  to feel better.

i had a dream last night about my friend scotty, that i used to get high with.  in the dream i’m with my boyfriend, and scotty is there.  we are getting ready to cop, but scotty says my boyfriend can’t go.  we are going with this girl bonnie i used to get high with.  the rest of the dream is a memory, it actually happened…

we went to fitchburg to cop with bonnie, a friend, scotty, and bonnie’s daughter, who was probably about seven.  we went to a parking lot, met our dealer, and copped.  in the dream i got a half gram, and i knew i was supposed to save some for my boyfriend, but i didn’t. scotty and bonnie got off in the front seat, and i got off in the back seat, next to the baby, leaning over so she hopefully couldn’t see what i was doing.  i didn’t feel good about doing that, but i mean, she’s not my kid.

now usually, when you get high in dreams, you dont get off.  but this was different. i didn’t get high, but i felt this relief that i just don’t have in life.  like i can finally stop flexing every muscle in my body, and just let go.  i think that must be what death feels like. freedom.

so, needless to say, that dream triggered me too. all day, ever since i woke up, i’ve had that feeling, like a chronic toothache.  you may forget about it for a while, but it’s always there, just waiting for you to forget, so it can jump back out at you.  it never really ends.

everything triggers me. everything.  songs, tv shows,  places in town, friends.  clothes i wear, i take out of the closet, and see forgotten bloodstains.  i went into my mom’s basement to clean out some old trash. broken glasses and moldy clothes.  i found a paper bag with about fifty used needles in it. i sat in the basement for a half an hour just trying to put myself together long enough to walk back upstairs.  it takes me  over like a seizure.  i don’t know if it will ever go away.  but i’m not getting high today. that’s something. isn’t it?

simple things

it was a  quiet weekend by my personal standards, i did alot of things i hadn’t done in years….sometimes i feel like i’ve completely forgotten how to be normal.

friday night my parents were out and my boyfriend was at work. i just sat on the couch with my brother and our cousin and watched the celtics get stomped by the lakers.  usually i would be 10 degrees of pissed off with a loss to the yellow and purple faggot brigade, but just being able to chill with my family and enjoy the game really meant alot to me.  my younger brother dax has always had my back, regardless of the stupid shit i do.  and when aaron has moved on to his wife and child and put me at a safe distance, dax and i are still tight.  our cousin brandon is a cool kid too.  they are both pretty level-headed.  dax doesn’t drink or get high at all. i guess that’s possibly due to my debaucherous lifestyle. but if my bullshit life keeps him from suffering the same fate, at least i know it wasn’t all for nothing…

the next day robbie and i went out to dinner and drinks with his family. it’s actually kinda cool to meet his family, to get to know them and spend time with them.  jesse’s family was never into getting to know me.  they are snobby rich people from Winchester, and i was always three grades lower than an acceptable class for their son.  so it’s nice to be accepted just as i am, and have a good time with some laid back people.  when we got home we had strawberry cheesecake with my mom for my birthday, and watched the grammy’s.  (eminem was amazing, but what else is new)  and i started thinking about how long it’s been since i’d really spent some time with my mother like this. since i’ve been home, we really got to just sit and talk. it’s been years since we’ve had suck an easy way of conversation, it’s really nice.

on sunday robbie wanted to see his son derek, so we took him to see the “green hornet” movie. he’s only 8, but he’s a fun kid, and we get along good.  i think it’s nice that he likes me. the kid’s mother is a bitch, but i guess i don’t really know what she went through with robbie, him being a heroin addict the whole time they were together.  her brother chris is a kid i’ve been getting high with since 2001, so i guess she’s lost alot to dope, so i can understand where she’s coming from.  we don’t have to like each other anyway.  so we saw the movie, then we went back to robbie’s mom’s house and played candyland til derek had to go home.  i never really considered myself good with kids persay, but hanging out with derek and his cousins, i seem to  have a way with the little critters.  and i enjoy it to. wonders never cease.

and today is valentine’s day, of course.  robbie and i did what all good couples do on valentine’s day. hehehe. a couple of times. and we had dinner together, he gave me a card, bought me some jewelry, little things that just don’t happen in my life. it’s a good feeling. to feel loved and wanted, necessary.  different.  now he’s at work and i’m just enjoying my quiet time, sitting here with my dog, watching the sopranos, not sick, not sad, not strung out. i’ll take it.

sometimes it is the smallest things that make the biggest impact.