pushin my luck

about a month before i went to detox this last time, i was gaining all kinds of new life experiences as a fledgling junky…one of which was getting arrested. as far as i can recall, this is how it went down…..

i was running out of hustle, and fast. i was on the verge of breakdown, out of the hospital (story for another day) and still feeling pretty shitty. i was out of work for a month or so, but needed to get straight all day everday. i was living at lynn’s shooting gallery, and her dealer lived in the room next to mine. we’ll call him JJ. now, JJ barely spoke broken english, nevermind actual words, and he had no license, but he had  a car. he went almost daily to a big city out of state to pick up his shit. he needed  a driver.

hm, now could this be any more perfect.

i didn’t have a license either, at this time, but if you think i told him that, you are out of your tree. “oh, sure, JJ, i can totally drive you back and forth.” it was inconseqential that we could barely exchange words, or that we would be touring the seediest parts of the inner city ghetto, or that i knew he was one of those “drugs for sex” type of dealers. no sir, one sentence, two words: free drugs.

so that’s how it began, and lasted for about three weeks. casey would get up and go to work (he’d finally gone back after taking a few weeks off himself, just for fun.) and i’d wake up with him, at 530, to get off e. sleeping through the night was a fond, distant memory, as we both woke up with the sun every day, sick as shit. JJ would front us morning bags, and we’d pay him back by the end of the day. (most days) after we both got fixed, casey would truck off to work, and i’d go back to sleep, blissfully silent inside again, and wake up around 9 to start my day.

JJ would again, get me high, before we left for the city. i know he was trying to get in good w/me, for whatever reason. but i didn’t care. let him think what he wants, as long as the dope keeps coming.  we’d drive the hour and a half, cop, and come back….with varying numbers of pit stops to reboot, if you follow me.

this day in particular, we were only going down to the city to get the brakes fixed on the geo metro i used for these pilgrimages. we had plenty of drugs, i just didn’t know where. (and didn’t care to, to be quite honest, the less i knew the better, i thought. the only drugs i was concerned with were the ones in my set, ready to go.) so we drove down to the city, and landed in this same apartment we always do. it’s in the highrise projects downtown, and JJ keeps the house as storage. he leaves me there while he conducts his business….and i don’t mind at all.

“this for you.” he says, i think. he drops two 40s of coke and a half bundle on the table. “i be back, few hours.” and he was out the door.

now, this is the point i’d gotten to in my addiction. i was giddy with happiness at the idea of sitting alone for hours and just doing speedballs and watching the spanish channel in some government subsidised crack house. i was happier at that moment than i had been in a long time.

i went straight to the bathroom. (why i still felt the need to hide is an interesting idea….) and set myself up a “murder shot.” way too much dope and even more coke….just the way i liked it. i sat on the floor, tapped my vein, and preceded to fall right over and hit my head on the bath tub. mmmm……i like my pleasure mixed with pain. i lay there on the floor, clutching my head, giggling, thinking to myself “today is gonna be a good day.”

after a few minutes of rolling around on the floor, i got up and took my regular spot on the bed, spanish channel blairing. i was so relieved, so content at that moment. because, weather you know it or not, that’s what a real junky always wants…..to be alone, in a quiet, safe place, just you and the drugs. no drama, no need to hustle, no worries, for at least a couple hours. and when you are deep in it, a couple hours of peace is hard to come by.

so the afternoon went off without a hitch….no more head injuries, no o.d., and i didn’t run out of shit. not bad for a wednesday. jj came back just after the sun went down, and i finished off the coke. i did two bags of diesel, and we walked to the car.

“all fix.” he said, pointing at the geo.

“nice.” i said, nodding my head. i cannot believe this dude is gonna let me drive his car. i giggled a little bit to myself, thinking how dumb he was…not stopping to think how dumb i was to get behind the wheel in the first place.

the drive back was a long one, an hour and a half or so, and by the time i got within 20 minutes of the house, i was irritated, he was babbling in spanglish, and i just acted like a) i understood and b) i gave a shit. “oh, yeah, dude, i hear ya.” my grip on the wheel was getting tighter and tighter…i needed to get high. bad.

“uh, JJ, i need to get off, man.” why beat around the bush at this point?

“at the house, it at the house.” he said, doing keybumps of his personal shit. i didn’t even bother asking, if you can’t put it in a needle, you are waisting my time. “i take good care of you, at house.”

okay, that’s all i needed to hear.  my foot got heavy on the gas and we sailed off towards “home.” i couldn’t get there fast enough. i kept thinking how good the day had been….free drugs, all that time to myself, no hustling, no sickness, and now JJ was gonna get me high for the rest of the night, just for being fabulous junkbox me. what more could i ask for.

we were coming down the street by the apartment, the house was on the corner….in the front, where i’d usually park, JJ saw blues.

“no park that way, pigs.” he said, pointing at the cruisers in front of the house. the cops had a speed trap up in the parking lot across from the house, so we were used to seeing them there. casey kept saying we were being watched. “stop being so fucking paranoid.” i would say, every day as we watched them watch us walk in and out. what the fuck did they care about us small time junkies. right?

so i pulled in the back lot, and as i was coming up the drive, i saw the back lot was full of guys….and the exit was blocked by a cruiser. JJ looked bothered, i kept creeping forward.

“okay, JJ, i think those are cops,” i said, putting the car in park, they came closer. “just be cool….” i was halfway through the sentence, and my door was open, i was pulled out of the car, and slammed up against the back panel.

i dont’ know if i had thoughts or feelings during this handful of seconds. all i remember is a sinking feeling in my stomach, the sound of countless voices, asking meaningless questions, and the look of the night sky with the red and blue lights dancing in the background. well, this is it, isn’t it?

“JJ, we are serving you with a domestic assault warrent from your wife out in the city.” the first cop said. “now, if you tell us where the drugs are, we can make this quick, and maybe less painful.”

“no drugs.” he said, hands held high. “no drugs.”

they caught me off guard, to put it mildly. “kaia, how you been?” the lead guy asked, like he knew me or something. “hey rocky.” i smiled. rocky was the narco cop in my town for as long as i can remember. although i had never been arrested, i had been questioned in numerous cases, and i was well known as a junky in the small town i come from. (always a killer reputation to have)

“what have you been up to?” he asked.

“not much.” i said, shrugging. he ran my license and found it suspended. well, i guess that one caught up with me….and the cuffs went on.

“i’m gonna search you, do you have any weapons or needles in your pockets?” he asked.

“no.” i admit, by this time i was a little scared. i’ve done research, and i know all about my rights and shit like that, what i do and dont have to say, but when you are geeked like i was, and confused, all that shit goes out the window. thats what the cops count on.

he searched me, and then took out my purse. he unzipped it and went to put his hand in. “uh, there is a rig in there.” i said, half smiling. why bother now, i was arrested regardless, and if he got stuck, i’d be fuct. “what else is there?” he asked, handing the bag to some rookie to search….

“i don’t remember.” i said looking away. i knew for a fact there were four empty bags of dope (when you are an end of the line junky like me, cleanings are standard, and tossing an empty bag is sacreligious.) and some random pills i’d robbed from the flop house in the city. vics, percs, xanax….the usual suspects.

all of this he found. of course. he looked at me, i just shrugged. “i’m a junky, dude.”

“don’t call me dude.”

“sorry.”

“now, tell us where you went today, we know you went to pick up, we’ve been watching you for a while now.” damn, i guess casey wasn’t so paranoid afterall. i thought about all those times i told him he was a nutcase, when we saw cruisers across from the house. i felt a little dumb, just then.

“i didn’t go to pick up shit.” i said. “we were partying, we got the car fixed, that’s it.”

“where’s the heroin?”

“i don’t know.”

“tell us or we’re taking you in.”
you’re taking me in anyway, i’m sure. “i don’t know.” this went on for quite sometime. they put me in the back of the cruiser, and went into the apartment, to search the place. (i later found out that lynn let them search the house w/out a warrent, just cuz she was scared, running her mouth about JJ the whole time…”it’s all his, i don’t know shit, whatever you find isn’t mine, it’s his, it’s his.” i guess when it comes down to it, its obviously every junky for themself.) they ransacked the place, brought up the dogs, and still didn’t find shit, due to the fact that JJ kept most of it burried in the back yard, which i kept to myself.

i sat in the back of the cruiser, watching plain-clothed officers go in and out of my house, wondering what lynn and casey were saying or doing, wondering where benji, our other roomate was, how long it would be before i could get bailed out. i’m gonna be fucking sick. shit, what the fuck am i gonna do. fuck fuck fuck.  all that was going on around me, all the shit i was in, all the havoc…and all i cared about was getting my next fix. tears were streaming down my face….this can’t be real, this can’t be really happening.

an hour or so later, i was laying on a wooden bench in a holding cell…waiting to be processed. i had been crying alot, and my head spun with anger, confusion, and cocaine withdrawl. i need to get high.

the door opened, and a female officer came in and searched me. “do you have any communicable diseases?” she asked, running her hands down my legs. “hep c, but you can’t get it from…”
“i am familiar with the disease, miss.” well, excuse me.

she took me out and sat me down on the bench with all the narco cops. the lead guy was my dare officer in high school. “guess i didn’t do a very good job with you, huh, kaia.” he said, inking my fingertips.

“i’m surprized you even remember my name.” i said with an empty laugh.

“so, you gonna tell us whats up?” rocky asked me.

“i don’t know what you mean.” i said for the millianth time. my gaze passed to the other holding cells…there was JJ, looking pissed, and benji in the next one over. i guess that answers the question of his whearabouts. that kid always got brought in on a warrent. no matter what…traffic stop, raid, or just passing a cop on the street, if they knew him, they knew more likely than not, he had a warrent for something. so there he sat.

the rookie cop looked over my license. “wow, you used to be a real pretty girl, would’ve made any cop a nice wife….now” he looked me over. “you look like shit. what a fucking waste.” i held my tongue. i just wanted this to be over.

they laid in on me with questions “who this, what that, where, how much.” my head was spinning, and i didn’t know what to say. i gave them the same “we were just partying story.” over and over they asked, and i tried my best to stick to what i said originally. its weird, how they make you feel like you’re lying even when you’re not. as the inquisition continued, a familiar thought came to me….“i can’t fucking do this anymore. i need to get clean, get out of this life. i am not cut out for this, this can’t be my life. how did i get here, how to i get back, what did i do, how do i undo it. i’m sorry, please fucking end this just end it just end it.

“are you trying to protect your dirtbag boyfriend, cuz he’s the reason you’re in here, you know that.” this came from the young undercover cop….

fuck yourself, dude. i just stared at him.

“you think we couldn’t have pulled him and lynn in if we wanted to…they gave you and your friend up. you can’t be that dumb.”

whatever.

“they told us where you were coming from and  what you had on you, which we will find, mind you. they are tearing that car apart as we speak.”

good luck with that, douchebag, car’s empty.

now, i know this is a common interrogation tecnique, to pit one criminal against another, but i’ll admit, for a minute, i wondered, why was i in there, and they were at home…probably getting high right then. never did it occur to me that i put myself there, willingly. i knew the odds, i took a chance, and i lost.

oh, shit, i’m gonna be sick soon.

panic gripped me again. “can i post bail?”

“you gonna call casey?” the cop asked.

“yes.”

“well, it’s a bad idea, but i can’t stop you.”

i made the call, and casey was gonna send down his brother to bail me out, on a 40 dollar bond. thank god.

the next 40 mintues i spent in the holding cell, the cops laying it on thick. “you know, kaia, you are a decent kid, you just need to drop the loser and go to treatment, blah blah blah. if you get clean, we will do whatever to help you, if you stay a junky, we will be on you forever.” and so on in a similar fashion.  i nodded politly, saying ‘yes’ and ‘you’re right’ in appropriate places, but my mind was already running plays for my next fix. casey’s brother came witht he money.  he didn’t wait for me, disgusted with me i’m sure, and i walked home in the snow, alone. the stars were out, and the wind whipped against my skin. i was in a blood stained element hoodie i’d been wearing all winter, no jacket. but just to be free of that mess was an incredible feeling. of course, i could feel better…i walked faster.

when i got to the house, lynn and casey had torn the place upside down, looking for the dope the cops didn’t find. nobody asked me about what happened, or where JJ or benji was, that would come after we got off e.

“where the fuck is it?” lynn was tweaking out, sick as shit. i put down my purse, and started going through part of the linen closet. i knew something had to be in the house….it just had to be.

 right back to the hustle, without a second to breath.

a meeting of chance

josh took me home again last weekend, to visit my mother…and who was @ the house to collect some old paperwork? casey. he looked so healthy…he’s gained 40 pounds, had some teeth pulled, and his skin has color, instead of that strange transparency it always had.

i won’t lie, it was nice to see him, although he doesn’t even resemble the kid i fell in love with. i could tell josh was uncomfortable, and i don’t blame him.

the story of my break up with casey is one for another day….but i just wanted to put into words how happy i am he’s clean right now, and how good he seems to be doing. i speak to him on the phone sometimes, and i feel that connection again….still. i wonder sometimes, what it all means. there HAS to be a reason for all of this, i just cant wrap my head around it.

add it to the list: things that confuse and frustrate kaia.

late night

i was lying on the floor in the living room of our small townhouse, in my red dr denton footsie pj’s (my all time favorite) aaron was whining and fidgiting on the floor next to me. angry i got the coveted spot right in front of the screen again. “i’m older than you, and bigger than you, i do what i want.” i said, very matter-of-factly. i was beyond my eight years, aged by the experiences of life….experiences like the one that was about to unfold that cold autum night. we sat on the floor, blissfully unaware, for the moment.

“mom, kaia won’t push over.” aaron whined, pulling on the zipper of his yellow dr dentons. mom dressed us in matching pj’s often at this age….aaron was only four.

mom didn’t answer him….she was staring out the window, as she had been for the past two hours, absent-mindedly changing the channels on the tv, not even looking in that direction.

“mother.” i said “nick at night is on, i want to watch get smart.” as a young child i had insomnia, and i would stay up all night watching classic sitcoms on tv. mom didn’t say anything,  just flipped the channel to nick at night, and returned to her patrol of the neighborhood.

i knew what was going on. i’m just a kid, but i’m not stupid.  my parents had gotten into another fight, pretty standard. dad had gotten hammered, and when mom opened her mouth, he quieted her the only way i’d ever seen him do it. she had fallen to the floor, one hand over her bloodied mouth. i had scooped up aaron (also standard procedure) and taken shelter in the closest area i thought may be safe, under the dining room table. i took his head and cradled it to my chest, covering his ears as best i could. mom looked up from the floor, hand still over her mouth, blood seeping out from between the fingers. i felt that catch in my throat, and i started to cry. i held aaron closer, and rocked back and forth a little. he liked that.

the fight went on for what seemed like forever. they had been getting more frequent and more violent, and dad always seemed to be drinking more and more. i didn’t know what to do, so i just prayed for quiet, and waited for it. it didn’t come this time. mom had gotten to her feet, and she was going at it with him again. i thought she was stupid, cuz i knew she’d get hurt, but i loved her more every second, cuz she never stopped trying to protect us.

“phil, the kids.” she’d say over and over.

“not my fucking kids anyway.” he screamed.  i wish we we’re your kids.  when he said this, he came at us, down on his hands and knees like an animal, grabbing at my foot, trying to pull us out from under the table.

oh god, what now….“MOM!!!” i didn’t know what else to do, i held onto aaron so tight, my nails were digging into his skin…..

just then, dad fell face first on the floor, i looked on, confused. he didn’t move. then i looked up at mom….she had a frying pan in her shaking hand….tears and blood smeared all over her face. “get up, kaia, right fucking now.” she grabbed me by the hand and put aaron in her arms, which were welling with bruises by this time. i followed mom out of the house, having to step over dad to get to the front door. “we need to go.” i kept saying over and over. “we need to go, mom, we need to go.”

“i know sweety.” she said, breathlessly. dad had put mom on a ventalator for less than this. we need to go. we got into the car and drove until the sun came up. when we got home that afternoon, dad was gone. it had been a week since that night, mom had served dad with “divorce papers” which confused me. what’s divorce? . i hoped it meant he wouldn’t hurt us anymore. we hadn’t seen or heard from him. but mom knew as well as i did he would never stay away….so she sat in the window, watching….waiting.

it got to be around 2am, and i was still up watching green acres by this time, mom was asleep on the couch, aaron had passed out with his head on my lap. still to tense to sleep, i was just happy for the quiet…..

then the phone rang.

i woke mom us and she answered the phone. i didn’t know who could be calling this late, but with my parents, you never knew.

“hello.”

“mrs. _____?”

“speaking, what is this, is friggin 2am.”

“you need to get your children and get out of the house right now. this is the mansfield police department.” all the blood drained from mom’s face, it was like you could see right through her.

“why, what’s wrong.”

“we just responded to a dui car accident. we found your car wrapped around a telephone pole, but no driver. empty liquor bottles, your divorce papers….and a quantity of shotgun shells. we have reason to believe your husband…” mom dropped the phone. it smashed when it hit the ground, shards of hard plastic covered the carpet. mom grabbed aaron and ran into the kitchen. by this time he was screaming at the top of his lungs. the noise got louder all of the sudden i felt hot. i felt dizzy. i wanted mom to hold me like that.

something bad is going to happen. i grabbed my brother’s blanky and followed my mom into the kitchen. the moon was full in the sky, i could see it through the window over the sink. it was so big, it lit up the whole sky how pretty ….mom yanked a the silverware drawer open and cutlery hit the floor with a loud crash. i covered my ears with my hands, and started to cry. i’m scared. but i didn’t tell mom that, she looked terrified already. i bent down to pick up the forks. “kaia, what are you doing, get up, we need to go, we need to get the hell out of here.”she had a giant butcher knife in her hand, and the way she held it, i could see myself in the blade, like a mirror. my face was worn and puffy with tears. my long brown hair was matted to my face.  i look like mommy.  she jerked me up by my arm, and we made our way to the front of the house. mom opened the door, and the cold october air hit my skin….the moon filled the whole sky…so bright for so late at night. i could see all around….

and there was dad.

sitting indian style on the walkway between us and the street.  the shotgun cradled in his lap, and a bottle in his hand.

he just smiled.

mom screamed and yanked me back inside. she locked the door, turned the dead bolt, and pulled the couch in front of the door. aaron held onto me and i kissed his forehead…. i couldn’t stand it anymore. aaron crying and mom screaming and  dad smiling .    he didn’t move or say a word, but the sheer terror i felt was like icewater in my blood. my hands were sweaty, and i wanted so much just to run into the woods and never come back. somewhere he can’t find us.

ohmygodohmygodmommypleasestopthispleasestopthis.

mom dragged me up the stairs,flailing and fumbling her way up to the top and sat in the  corner, as far back as she could get, aaron on her lap, her arm around me, and the knife in her hand. completly silent, we sat there, waiting for someone to come save us….or someone else to come kill us. i just stared straight forward, numb and tired…so tired.

i can still hear my mom’s heavy breathing, hitching with tears…i can still smell aaron’s baby shampoo, as i ran my fingers through his hair “shhh, it’s okay. it’s okay mom we’re okay now.”  it felt like forever, up there. just us.

i don’t know when, but the police did come. they put dad in the cruiser after a “standoff” they called it. when they came to get us, mom wouldn’t answer the door. “he thinks i’m gonna fall for that. fuck him. fuck him.”her voice quivered, i felt so helpless, i just wanted to make her feel better, make her feel safe. i just wanted us to be okay.  they finally came in a window, and had to pry aaron out of mom’s arms while they questioned her, and me… “sweety, can you tell us what happened with your daddy tonight?” “have you seen that gun before.” “has he ever hit you like he hits mommy?”

we spent that night in the emergency room, mom and grampa coaching us on the lie we would tell the neighbors.  lying was part of “normal” family life for us, and i spun stories, even then, and nobody questioned me.  whatever it took to protect myself and my family.

we went home that morning, and i remeber feeling like it was never going to get better. no matter what i did i would always be scared and sad and broken.

why can’t it just be okay?

that night, mom slept on the couch, aaron fell asleep with his head in my lap….and i stayed up to watch get smart, green acres, and the sun come up.

somebody has to stay up….

meanwhile….back on the ranch

the past couple days have been a headache…to say the least. and i tell you what, it would be really nice to take something for the pain. but not today.

i went home to finally clear up a “whereabouts unknown” warrent i got when i fled the halfway house. it was not fun, and i have another court day coming up in october. but what can you do, right?

then i went home to visit my parents. i can’t get into it all right now, but lets just say i won’t be wanting for writing material any time soon. (example: “kaia, gramma’s in detox again, and grampas on the psych unit for trying to kill himself.” “speaking of suicide, since aaron’s girlfriend went back to drugs and dumped him, your brother has been talking about trying to hang himself again, or going awol from the army, whichever comes first” “your real father is back in the picture, talking to aaron, trying to fuck shit up all over again.” “and by the way, i’m on morphine now for my back.”) all this came out of mom’s mouth, what she could muster up for words, through the jamm sandwich she was sitting in. what a fucking mess.

i drove away from the house wanting to get high so bad i could feel it in my teeth. my hands are shaking right now just thinking of it. and to be honest, i don’t know how much more of this i can take.

to put a little icing on this tart i call life….josh and i argued the whole way home, about being or not being sober, moving in together or not, his mother, my mother, my attitude, his arrogance, my exboyfriends, his insecurity, my instability, and anything else you can conjure in your head. i feel like i’m falling down a well, and i am giddy with anticipation of hitting the bottom.

stay tuned for another episode of “apocolypse now: junky edition”

through the looking glass

“if you want to break up, just tell me, just be honest.” josh is gripping the wheel tighter, driving faster.  we are on our way to our a meeting (something we’ve been slacking on) and, as usual, he’s disecting every sentence out of my mouth….analysing each sylable for a hidden meaning. (your tone on the phone was so cold… you looked funny when you said that…..what do you mean, standing that way…..it never ends)

but this time he was right. i do want to break up. at least i think i do. to be honest, i have no idea what is true and what’s not anymore. i tell him i’m not happy, he says its cuz i want to get high. i tell him we don’t get along, he tells me its because i have poor sobriety. i tell him we got into this relationship to early, and i want to make decisions on my own, be my own person, and he tells me i’m making excuses. he tells me i’m selfish, and maybe i am, but all i know is i don’t want to base my life right now on what someone else tells me to be. i’ve always done it this way, i’ve always had a guy in my life, and i’ve become whoever he wants me to be.  but i’m sick of it, i just want to do what i want, feel how i want, and make my own fucking mistakes.

“are you listening to me?” he asks, his voice urgent.

“i don’t think we should date anymore.” my voice is barely audible.

“okay, kaia, if that’s what you want i’ll take you home.” he turns the car around. so much for the meeting.

but instead of taking me home, he drives to his house. “we need to talk.” he says.

now, i don’t know what to say. i do love him, sometimes, and i do like hanging out with him.  but i just feel like its too much too fast, and i may have made a mistake. i tried to tell him these things.

“all this started happening when you started slacking on your sobriety.” he stammers.

“we started slacking.”

“the problem has been REMOVED for me, kaia, you need to do more work.” he stopped, collected himself. “i know i need to work hard too, we can do this together.”

it goes on like this for hours. me saying i need space, him saying its cuz i want to relapse. i don’t know what i want. i don’t know if i’m right, and i just don’t want to be with him, or if he’s right, and i’m really that sick in the head…that i want to get high so bad i’d sabotage a good relationship to do it. i feel like he’s telling me i’m crazy and i can’t trust myself. i don’t know whats real anymore. i feel like i’m living a dream. “i don’t think you should rush into any decisions you will regret.” he says, holding me as we say goodbye in the car. “maybe your right,” i say with a heavy sigh. “maybe we should take some time and think it out.” maybe he is right, maybe you don’t know, you are usually wrong….why go into it without thinking…but you have been thinking, this has been coming…what to do what to do.

so josh drops me off and i go upstairs and i get on my knees for the first time in a few weeks (i’ve been feeling very far from spiritual lately) and i ask for some kind of guidance as to what to do about this. i am losing my mind, and i don’t know what’s right. i don’t want to make a mistake and regret it, like josh is promising i will. i don’t want to stay with someone that makes me feel less than. or do i do that on my own? am i really the cause of all this turmoil. he won’t own any part in it. he admits to being over critical, but says it’s only because i’ve slipped so far.

the night goes on without incident, i dream of home and friends long missed, i wake up feeling unhappy…unfinished business….the phone rings. “good morning josh, i’m not even out of bed yet.”

“good morning kaia. so i think we should take it very slow, and go on as if nothing happened, no need to end it just yet, give us another shot. a fair one.”

“okay, josh, i can do that.” i hand up and get out of bed, feeling heavier than normal.

i don’t know what  to do. as i wander through this backwards world, where nothing is as it seems and it all is what it isn’t.  i am all alone,  wondering how to get back on the other side of the looking glass.

given up

Wake in a sweat again
Another day’s been laid to waste
In my disgrace
Stuck in my head again
Feels like I’ll never leave this place
There’s no escape

I’m my own worst enemy

I’ve given up…
I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away
I’m suffocating!
Tell me what the fuck is wrong with me!

I don’t know what to take
Thought I was focused but I’m scared
I’m not prepared
I hyperventilate
Looking for help somehow somewhere
And no one cares

I’m my own worst enemy

I’ve given up…
I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away
I’m suffocating!
Tell me what the fuck is wrong
with me!

GOD!

Put me out of my misery
Put me out of my misery
Put me out of my…
Put me out of my fucking misery!

I’ve given up
I’m sick of feeling
Is there nothing you can say?
Take this all away
I’m suffocating!
Tell me what the fuck is
Wrong with me!

~linkin park~

i’m not a recovered addict, but i play one on t.v.

another day goes by and i live this lie. its a complete mess. i didn’t see seth last night, because he wasn’t at the shop when i went in there. but i know it’s only a matter of time….until our paths cross again.

now to add curious to curiouser….i got a random email from an exboyfriend i haven’t spoke to in years. he was the one that i quit drugs for the first time. (not really though, drinking and benzos count as drugs, so i’m told.) but he just wanted to say hi, and let me know he’s living in the city now. coincidence? i don’t believe in coincidence anymore. i just don’t know what any of this is supposed to mean.

things with josh are going from bad to worse, and i am confused as to why i  can’t either end it or work to make it better. i guess i just need some time to really think about it. i am flying pretty high on caffeine right now (which is a story for another day as well, it’s crazy how i’ll put ANYTHING in me that will alter my perception of reality) and i can’t put into words how truely lost i feel right now.

its funny, i feel like i’m living the prelude to some horror story i haven’t written yet.