paralyzed

when something bad starts to go down, something comes over me, and i am unable to act. i run and hide and hope that it will just fade away, and i can go on with life like it never happened.

they finally caught up with me at work. monday, they called me into the office and said some of my coworkers said i was acting erradically, and falling asleep at the desk. the ironic thing is that this was one day out of many i was actually sober. i am just going through a lot of shit personally, and not sleeping so well. so my boss asked me if i would go down to employee assistance and see a counselor, and i said sure. they asked me to sign some confidentiality papers, and i did, not thinking much of it. then they drop this on me, i just consented to a random drug screen. i felt completely blindsided. they could have been straight with me, instead of coming in the back door like that. but i can’t really be mad, i have been getting high. i don’t think it has affected my proformance, but it’s still not kosher. so i went home that day, and i just havn’t been back. cc, my coworker called me and i talked to her for like an hour. i know i should go back, and at least talk to them.

but i will probably have to leave anyway. because a big part of the reason i haven’t been back is because i’ve been back home with my family. the past two days i have spent at my parents house, because my mom has been comitted. yes, you heard me, as in “one flew over the cookoo’s nest” after my cousin died, i knew my mom wasn’t gonna be able to handle it. the question was how bad was she going to lose it. the possiblities were anywhere from a severe depression to a full blown nervous breakdown. mom chose door number two. she isn’t sleeping, she’s lost 30 pounds, she’s crying all the time. so she had to check herself in. so i’ve been at home, with her, the days before she finally went in. just trying to keep her safe, protect her from herself. not only that, but dax has had a front row seat for all of this horror show. i feel so bad for him, he is such a good kid, and he is neck deep in all this insanity and sorrow. i just don’t know what to do. he keeps asking me how to make mom better, and i have to keep telling him there is nothing we can do. it sucks so much.

so i know it wasn’t the right thing to do, to just ignore my job and go home, but when shit goes down with my family, i get tunnel vision, and nothing else matters. i don’t know how it’s going to go down when i finally do talk to them. i mean, i would like to keep working there, on one hand. but on the other, i feel like they see me a certain way now, and i’ll never live that down. i don’t want to be the addict in the eyes of everyone. i dont’ want that hanging on me like that. part of me says “kaia, you can get a job anywhere” which is true. but it’s just a bummer that i will have one more job on the list of “fuct it up” another job i was really good at, where people liked me and i was really making a difference, and i just said fuck it. left everyone hanging, let everyone down. it leaves a bruise on my heart, knowing that i have such potential to be helpful and a productive member of a team, and i just choose not to because i can’t deal with real life. it’s not just the drugs that i’m running away from with this job. i’m running away from the embarrassment, and the feelings of shame. i don’t want to go back to a place where everyone looks at me and thinks, “that’s girl’s a drug addict” i’m so sick of that shit. it just seems easier to go someplace else and start over, where noone knows me, and i can try to do a better job this time.  i just feel like it didn’t have to be this way. but it is.

i still have a chance to explain myself to them. be honest. we’ll see how it goes. either way i know i’ll be okay. but i do think they deserve an explaination. they have been good to me. who knows, maybe they will give me some time to take care of my family and myself, and i can come back. because i am a good worker, and i  do my best everyday to contribute.

i just wish i could act when things get out of control. but i can’t. it’s like i’m paralyzed, i know what i should do, but i’m powerless to do it. i know i should be on the phone with my boss right now, but i’m scared to pick up the phone. i know i should’ve done alot of things.

life is one big question….

…..when you’re staring at the clock.

it has been 26 days since jesse got sectioned. it has been an interesting time, to put it plainly. i have mostly just been going through the motions….work, home, cop, sleep. i’ve been drinking alot on my off dope days…whatever will take me out of myself, i suppose.

i was a little aprehensive at first about how i was going to go about getting drugs without jesse around. this is not my city. i dont’ know anyone really. i have no car, and no connections. but when my back is against the wall, i am a resourceful little bitch. (like any good junky) i just grabbed jesse’s phone and started dialing numbers. its amazing how easy i made the trasition, from dependent girlfriend, to independent drugaddict. very nice. now i meet the guy whenever i need to, very convienent. a little bit too easy….probably.

but i don’t know what else to do. my life is on pause until this saturday, when jesse finally comes back. he insists that i have mass quantities of consumables ready for his triumphant return, and i will follow orders. it should be a fun ride up to the prison, me and his everloving parents, 45 minutes in the mercedes, reenacting the spanish inquisition. but i dont’ give a damn, they can grill me all they want, because after we get back to his house, they are giving him the keys to his car and all his money they’ve been holding, and we are off. like a fucking prom dress. yes. you heard me.  i don’t know when we’ll see them again, but i do know it wont be anytime soon.

i’m not really sure what happens next. i can’t seem to plan any further ahead than saturday morning…..that first kiss after 30 days. damn, god help us if we ever have to do any real time. ha. 

the serious girl that lives somewhere inside me really hopes things get better, really hopes some kind of good comes out of all this…but then her sarcastic bitch sister kicks her ass and i remember the humor of it all. life isn’t like this for everyone…its a special experience for the sick. junkylife. it is kinda funny, in a sad way.

as i look the other way

here’s a good story for all you asshole that want to see me fail (all you supportive ppl, this is not aimed at you) a little sarcastic tourture on my part.)

yesterday was my first day back at work after my cousin john (god protect him) hung himself. i had it in my twisted mind that i was not under any circumstances going to get high today. not going to fucking happen.

needless to say, i was at the same place waiting for the same thing at the regular time. i can not explain to you why. i don’t fucking know why. there is no good reason. i’m just weak  and alone, and i dont know how to deal. but the entire time i’m thinking. kaia just go you don’t need this shit just go home and it will be okay/ be good to yourself. it’s okay. just go home.    obviously, that’s not what happened, and despite the guilt i felt in my stomach i went home with a bag of coke and two bags of dope.  like it was made for tv, the shit was garbage, and i spent the rest of the night rummaging through the trash for cottons to help me come down from this geeked out mess. ( if you ar a real addict, you know where i’m coming from) and now, for the grand finale…..i came down w/ the worst cotton fever you have seen since the days of andy warhol’s factory. (i just take me pokes) i was shaking and sweating the night away, knowing the whole time i brought it on myself, cuz i couldn’t curb my urge to use. i didn’t get high tonight. although i am a little drunk. and i won’t get high tomorrow. friday, well, that’s friday. i don’t give a fuck if it’s right or wrong, this is just me, as real as i can be, trying to give you a little something to read.

this is just another example of god puttting all the signs i can handle right in front of me, and me being to scared and settled in addiction to listen. and i pay…..i pay every time.

in my defense

i am aware that when i put my story on this blog, i put myself out there for any kind of reaction. i know everyone is entitled to their opinion.  but lateley i’ve been getting alot of comments on here (i don’t approve them because i’m not going to allow people to trash me on my own blog) accusing me of not caring about my family or anyone else.  saying i’d be better of dead, and i don’t deserve to be happy because i am the asshole that doesn’t get sober. telling my my life also known as thier entertainment, is getting old, and they don’t want to hear it anymore.i do take full responsibility for all of my actions, and i am aware that i keep making the same mistakes over and over. it doesn’t mean i don’t care. i find it hard to believe ppl that would tell me things like that have ever suffered from this disease. i’m not going to get into why i can’t seem get clean, my bottomless pit of issues of abuse and self deprication. (which are not excuses, i understand) the truth of the matter is i try to be as honest as possible on this site, with myself and my readers. and i get shit for that alot. maybe ppl don’t really want to hear the inner thoughts of an active addict still in the grips of self-centered thinking, a girl driven by fear and feelings of worthlessness. because that’s what the main idea is here. i can’t get clean because i truely don’t believe i’m worth the effort. i truely don’t believe i will ever have a good life. i’ve never seen it, i’m not sure it’s real. and i feel more often than not that it is out of my reach. so i stay stuck. like alot of sick people. so i say this. if you don’t want to hear it, or you are fed up with my active addict issues, please just don’t read anymore. this blog is one of my few outlets to vent my frustrations with myself and get the poison out of my head. don’t attack me here.  i do my best to be loving and understanding of all the people in my life. and if i’m not hurting you, i’d like you to try to be understanding of me.  i’m just trying to live this one day, right now. cut me some slack. thanks.

my waking nightmare

*note* in my last entry i used real names, due to the fact that i was waisted, please disregard, and well go on w/ out alias’s. thank you* so, let me see if i can arrange all this tragedy and misery in chronological order…..an ambitious task indeed.last thursday was like every other day before it for the past few months. i was sitting @ my desk, impatiently waiting for jesse.  granted, lunch wasn’t for hours, but i had convinced him to bring me a mid-morning fix, seeing as he was in the neighborhood. “thanks love, i really need it today.” i said, emptying out files from the previous day.  “no problem baby, i’ll be there in an hour or so.” i hung up the phone and got back to work. “you looooove him.”  CC, my coworker giggled.  CC is more like a good friend that a coworker.  and she has had a front row seat to the horror show i call my life for quite a few months now.  she is one of the only people in the city who knows i use, and isn’t a junky.  i love her, and i’m lucky to have such an understanding friend. she is always teasing me about the men in my life.  “do they have -boys anonymous-, kaia? you could use that i think.”  and she’s right, of course.  if you have read a paragraph of this blog, you and i both know i have issues w/ men.  chalk it up to a fear of being alone coupled with a constant need to be the center of someone’s world.  i am fully aware its unhealthy, but it is of no consequence to me @ this time.  so yes, i did start dating jesse….on my birthday…about three weeks after casey broke up w/ me.  which was a direct result of my friendship with jesse.  i am happy with him, although i never thought i would be.  goes to show what i know.  he treats me well, makes me laugh, loves me “as is”, which is something casey just couldn’t do.  with casey everything was my fault, and if i could only fix myself, everything would be fine.  jesse doesn’t spin that game.  we would be set for life, if we didn’t get high…..if only.my celly wrang again. “hello….mom?”“kaia, where is john?” my mom sounded a little panicked.“mom, i haven’t seen john since i came home last.” i told her.  john is my first cousin on my mom’s side.  his story is similar to mine is some ways.  he’s 19 years old, with a killer drug habit.  one overdose, two stints in rehab.  the big difference between us is support. as in i have it, he didn’t.  his parents (my aunt and uncle ) pretty much disowned him a couple months before christmas.  not after the DUI’s, or having a baby with his high school girlfriend…..but it was the army that was the last straw.  john joined the army around the same time as my brother aaron.  they both had a very hard time acclimating the military life.  aaron got into heavy drinking, was PC’d by MP’s, and broke his nose in a bar fight.  soon after he found a girl and distracted himself with that enough to keep his mind off army shit.  johnny, on the other hand….went awol and had been hiding out in a crackhouse back home.  and that was the catalyst that put up a wall between him and his parents.but he did have one thing going for him….my family.  my mom is the most understanding, loyal, loving person on the planet, perhaps in the galaxy.  as long as there is a breath in her, no one she loves will go without.  she took john in and gave him my old room.  he’s been living @ her house since before halloween.  my youngest brother, dax became best friends w/ john.  aaron, john and i had always partied hard together, and him moving practically seamless.  he was like another brother.  everytime i came home for the weekend it was me, dax and johnny.  he fit right in, and we loved him just as he was…..imperfect like the rest of us. but i know the rejection from his parents hurt him deep.  he keeps his feelings to himself, mostly. but if you read the laundry list of traumas in his life, its fair to say he has alot of pain.worst hit of all….the baby.  john III, about 14 months old.  for john, the sun rises and sets for that baby alone.  he and molly (the mother) had been together since they were 13.  the relationship fell through, like most high school romances do.  molly moved back in w/ her mother, who hates john, blames him for all that is wrong with the world.  you can do the math…..john hasn’t seen his baby since christmas.  that two hour visit was the first in months.  watching him w/ his son was bittersweet to say the least.  i was so happy to see them together again, but crushed to know it would be the last time until god knows when.   that’s alot for a kid to deal with.“nobody has seen john since last wednesday, kaia.” mom’s voice was shaking.“what?” i was instantly worried.  “why didn’t anyone call me?”“we’ve been calling everyone, kaia. this is not like him.”she was right, john may be a heavy drinker, and he can hold his own @ any party…but he always comes home, or calls at least.  if mom or dax don’t hear from him, aaron or i do. it’s just how it is with us.“okay, mom, call the  police and file a missing persons.  i’m gonna come home tomorrow, and if he’s still not around i’ll go out and check some flop houses i know of.  but he’ll be back by then, anyway.“kaia, somethings not right.” mom was crying.“its gonna be fine, don’t worry.”about an hour later, my cell wrang again.  it had to be jesse, he should be pulling in right about now.“it’s about time, sucka.” i laughed.“kaia.” it was mom. i could barely understand her. “kaia we found him.”my heart sank. ice in my veins. no breath. “what?”“kaia, he’s dead.”no.“what?”“baby he killed himself.NO.“he hung himself.”nononononononononononononononononoNONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO“mom, no. mom, no.” i fell to my knees in the middle of the office. “what do you mean, it’s not true. it’s not true. mommy, please mommy. please don’t. no. no.” tears stream down my face and pool on my chin. “i gotta get out of here.” running down the hall to find my boss. “i gotta go home, my cousin is dead. my cousin is dead. i need to see my mom. i have to go right now.”  my boss just nodded her head, mouth open. i’m sure she was shocked by the absolute psychotic mess i transformed into before her eye
s. i got on the phone and relayed the horror to jesse.“we need to go home. we need to get home.”“baby i am so sorry.” he said. we will go right now, i’m on my way. i’ll do anything for you, it’s going to be okay.” he said, using his valium voice to sooth me.“jesse, i need to get fucking high right fucking now.” i gasped between sobs.“i’ve got it covered, baby. i’ll be there asap.” and then i waited. curled up in a ball crying on the floor in a back room in my office. this can’t be real. what the fuck happened? i don’t understand i don’t understand i don’t understand.from what i have gathered from bits and pieces is this: my cousin called me wednesday night, looking to party. i told him i was in the city and i couldn’t get to him, and besides, we were trying to cut down on the partying, weren’t we?  he agreed we said we’d chill. i asked him to call me when he got back to my mom’s house, just to talk. he said he weould. his friends dropped him off @ my mom’s house minutes later….he never went inside. instead, he walked across the street to a spot we have kegger @, and hung himself from a tree out there. a week went by with everyone calling each other trying to find him. it finally occured to someone to check the spot, sometimes he went out there alot to party. he had an overdose out there last year, and was only saved by chance. one of our friends stumbled across him out there. this time he left no room for error. jesse and i had other plans for this weekend. this was the weekend we were going to detox. i had called around and found a place where we could be on seperate floors, but in the same building, so we knew each other was safe. of course, now we would be going back home…..i’d have to put off detox.  i got in the car shaking like a epileptic. jesse handed me a set, full of numbness. that is all i wanted. (please spare me the critiicism, i know it’s not the right way to deal, but i frankly didn’t give a fuck at the time. don’t like it, don’t have to read it. thank you) i got fucking wrecked. finally my breathing slowed and i could talk again. “i just don’t get it. i just don’t get. we just saw him. i don’t understand. what about the baby? what about my brothers? this isn’t real. this isn’t fucking happening.”  i just kept shaking my head, rocking back and forth, crying a little more quietly than before. jesse put his hand on my knee. “it’s gonna be okay, hun.” he said, calmly. we are going to be there soon, and it will be okay.” we drove the rest of the way in silence. i got to my mom’s house and it was like walking into a nightmare. my house was full of family and friends, everyone crying, staring blankly. it was horrific. my mom was like a zombie, thank you xanax. she’s so fragile emotionally to begin with, i dont’ blame here for taking a pill. i just sat there, on the floor, with my head on her leg, like i used to when i was little. john’s friends were in the living room, they were the ones that found him. god bless those poor kids. i have known them all since high school, and i love them like family. they looked haunted. i suppose you might say they are haunted. the rest of that day is a blurr to me, mostly tears and hugs, followed by tourtured sleep.  the next morning we had to go back to the city, so we could get some money. jesse’s parents were going to lend us some money to get my brother aaron home on a plane from the army. and obviously we needed to get straight. i am not proud of that fact, but it’s the truth. this is junkylife, afterall. and i would be no good to my family sick.  we made the drive back before 9 in the morning, and we were parked out in front of his parents house, we were supposed to meet a kid a couple towns over in 20 minutes, and then we’d be on our way back to my mom’s.  jesse was on the porch w/ his mom. it was taking longer than i thought it should have. i started to get a bad feeling….something was up. someone kept looking out on the driveway from inside, and then i saw his dad. and the police. we had been set up.i rolled down the window, my heart pounding, instantly covered in sweat and hyperventalating. “kaia, stay in the car.” jesse’s father said firmly. yeah okay. i jumped out and ran over. “what the fuck is this?” the cops grabbed jesse’s arms and started to cuff him “jesse you are being taken in on a section 35 for 30 days mental health evaluation. you are considered a danger to yourself and to others. do you understand this.”  “no i don’t fucking understand. are you kidding me? let go of me.” he was pulling away. “don’t make this hard, kid. stop resisting.” it took two cops and his father to get him cuffed. by this time my mind was racing. i need to get to my mom. i have a warrent. i have court today. what the fuck what the fuck. this cannot be happening. what the fuck is happening. this isnt real.” i wasn’t thinking. i started running down the street.“baby come back. what are you doing? its okay. come back.” jesse was yelling from the front yard, surrounded by family and police. i just kept running. in my mind i was going to run all the way back to my mom’s house, 50 miles from this place. after about ten minutes of walking, rational thinking returned. jesse’s parents had just had him committed for psych eval because he’s an addict. i am in a town i don’t know, with no way to the train, at 830 in the morning.  it is snowing. i am in my pajamas. i have a purse full of needles, and i am dopesick. tears. lots and lots of tears. i wanted to call my mom, but i couldn’t bear to put anymore shit on her. i called her and told her i’d be late coming back, and i’d be alone. id explain later. she was worried instantly. i just can’t win.  i walked for about ten more minutes…..and then jesse’s parents caught up to me in their lexus. “get in the car, kaia. do you want to say goodbye to him?” i got in the car. they drove me down to the courthouse.  jesse was standing outside. now, i have spent my life watching people i love be taken away in handcuffs. it never gets any easier. i gave him a kiss. “be strong, baby, we will get through this.” he said. i could see how sick he was already, but he only worried about me. “i’m sorry about this, you will be okay, my mom will take care of you.” and they took him away. more tears. more tears than i knew i could produce.  jesse’s parents drove me back to their house, trying to explain why they did what they did. “we are sorry this had to coincide with your loss, but we had to do something. he’s sick, he could die.” “okay” i was not hearing a word they said. “we have been living this for two years.” she said. “i’
ve been living this since birth.” i had no sympathy for them at the moment. i just didn’t care what they had to say. they had taken away my only support, my only strength at a time i felt most vunerable. i didn’t even bother telling them we were already going to detox, they never would’ve believed me. the junky girlfriend. they dropped me off. “here are the keys to the xtera. you may keep it until afte the funeral. here is 200 dollars. it should help you with whatever you need right now.” i know what i need right now. and i was gone. i took their money and got high. yes. i did. i don’t care. i got what i needed and went back home. it was snowing to beat the band. i am lucky i didn’t die….hysterical crying…..high….driving in the snow. i got back to my mother’s, and cuddled up next to her on the bed. i told her what happened. “drugs again, kaia?” she started to cry. “why?” “i don’t know why mom. it wasn’t my intention.” now i was crying again. we sat there for a while, holding each other, weeping. “what do you think john would want you to do?” she whispered, kissed my forehead. “mom, i can’t miss the funeral.” i protested like a little kid. she just looked at me. “what do you think john would want you to do?” she repeated.  i was on the phone to detox, and i was admitted hours later. she was right, after all john and i had been through together, he would want me in detox before anything else. all we ever wanted was to see each other do good. and i owe it to him to get better. so i did my five days. that is a story for another day. my ex-in-recovery, josh (from last summer) picked me up and brought me back home. it has been the darkest time in my life, and i don’t have the support to keep from getting high. i’m weak. detox was what i needed. i was out of options, out of money, my soul has been worn so thin i can’t even feel it anymore. but can i stay clean? lets be honest.

and just to keep it interesting, i had a meeting with my roomates, and they want me to move out. of course. they think jesse’s been stealing dvd’s from them. i honestly don’t know, but i’d believe him before them. we have been in conflict since i moved it. i was looking for a way out of the lease for months. problem solved. ha.

but for today, i’m gonna deal with it all and not get high. tomorrow, i’m not making any promises.

the utter mess that is my life…..

my dear dear cousin jim, who i have been in and out of love for the past two years……..19 years old……he hung himself……don’t get it twisted….he was living w/ my mother, best friends w / both my br0thters…..i love this kid more than life itself.i tired everything  i could with him….come live w/ me, i’ll do anything for you….but you  know. some kids just don’t feel it. so he hung himself @ a party spot me and my brothers friends would understand…..i have 20 year old kids crying on my chest cuz jimmy thought this would be a stellar suicide…..poor kid….didn’t  know what he didnt know.  i love him so much, but there is only so much i can do as a junky. my life is a mess, and i am hammered right now, hammmered as usual. and i just wanto put it out there, that once apon a time i was a good kid, not a junkbox, and even if that is the way i die……ilove you all so much. i’m sorry mom, ty , kyle, dad, (my cuda dad, the only dad i ever knew) and irene, and all my other :”friends” i love you too, i never meant to  cause you any harm….jimmm……i love you kid….lets see this off to the sunset……. goodnight. nadine t;

a story i don’t tell

i was 19, what did i know about anthing?

CHOICE

i lost you

in a sea of blood

i lost you

i sold you

sold my soul

i lost you

tearing my insides out

sucking out my feeling

i gave it up

gave up on me

before it was real

i gave it away

i lost you

in a plastic bag

i lost you

in a distant haze

it hurt me

to hurt you

to lose you

to choose

i gave it up

numb and scared

i gave up on us

weak and confused

a silent time

a secret of mine

i gave it all away

my pain

my fear

this shame

is all that’s real

i lost you

and on this sunny day

tylenol won’t dull this pain

i made my choice

this fate is sealed

i found my maker

in worcester

and made a deal

my life i chose

and gave yours instead

on the outside

i’m still here

but where it matters

we’re both dead.

june 2001

missing pieces

i wrote this in october, geeked out of my mind on speed. i don’t know why i never published it, but it’s a unique snapshot of my mindset in the midst of the decent.

i’m having a hard time finding words to express the noise in my head right now.  it’s a constant barrage of sarcastic anger, whimpering tears, comical apathy, and the subtle but ever present voice of calm reason.  i’m so deep in conflict with myself i barely have room for anyone else. that’s isolation…that’s self-centeredness. i am the addict cliche. it’s so typical its nauseating.  all the things people said would happen, are happening.  if you know my story at all, you know that when i got sober in april, i was in it heart and soul.  i had “it” and i was going to go to any lengths necessary to keep it, and to share it. and i will tell you to this day, the way i felt was real, and it was a gift i didn’t believe i deserved.  and i was certain, if i followed the plan of action, i would be free of the obsession to use, and stay sober the rest of my life.people told me things like….”relapse starts in your mind, you have to watch your thoughts.”  they told me that a relapse could get rolling like a snowball, from something as simple as resentment.  just holding onto negative feelings, or feeding someone else’s negativity, could but you right back into that mindset.  i thought that was a pretty far fetch.  it’s quite a leap from being pissed at your roommate and sticking a needle in your arm. but that’s exactly what happened. and the most fuct up part is, i saw it coming the whole time. i may not be the smartest chick around, but i’m not stupid either, and i knew what i was doing may very well lead to my udoing….i just didn’t have it in me to stop it.  there is something missing inside me, the part that tells me to take care of myself.  the part that sees a future for me.    as i saw myself spiralling downward, i felt i was losing grip on that feeling….”i can do this, i deserve better.” it was fading, and i didn’t know what to do to revive it. i was so scared, and then i was angry. what the fuck? i was doing all they told me to, why was i feeling like shit again.   but people had laid that out for me to. i was coming off my pink cloud. i was joining the reality already in progress.  i knew this would happen, and i knew i still had a ton of work to do before i found true serentiy, instead of the preview that the pink cloud is.  that incredible peace, connection with god, self-esteem, and willingness to help others, was just a small example of the way my life could be, if i did the necessary work. and i KNEW that. but like a fucking typical addict, i took the self pity route instead. “i fucking lost it, i’ll never get it back, why bother?” and as i started to feel more and more sorry for myself, started to see myself the way i always had.  pathetic, worthless dreamer, getting all caught up in shit that will never come to fruition.  that familiar loathing of me came back, and i felt like such an idiot for ever believing i could have a good life. that kind of shit doesn’t happen to people like me.  so i hated myself again…..which means i hated everyone else again too.  i stopped making an effort to be kind.  i reverted back to being afraid of everyone around me. because if i think i suck this bad, you must think im a complete waste of life.  so defenses went back up, full force. the sarcastic chartcter assasination…..the elitist…..the critic. i had something to say about everyone. i was always on alert, dont fucking piss me off, shits going down.  i stopped making the effort to keep the girls i work with postive.  and i noticed the more i fed into their drama, the worse the drama got. i used to be able to turn a conversation around and we were all always in a good mood. since i jump on the gossip wagon, work has become a sullen place, we don’t have so much fun, and we are always mad at someone else in the office. i really started to see the manifestation of my energy….when i put out positive, the whole world i lived in was bright.  when i started feeding my surroundings my poinsoned thoughts and feelings…..my whole world became dark and brooding.  it really felt like the climate of life had changed.  i don’t know how tripped out that sounds, but its truely what i believe.  and, of course, the worse i felt, the worse i acted, and it just kept going and going. and once i started using, i knew exactly where it would lead. i knew there was nothing ahead of me but misery and conflict.  but where i was supposed to feel “stop, kaia, you have so much to lose, you have so much going for you, you deserve a good life, god wants you to claim it” there was a gaping hole in my soul, a cavity decaying rapidly from all the negative energy i’d been feeding it. my poor spirit was an empty shell, and i was missing the pieces required to care.  i just didn’t have it in me to fight for myself. and now that i’m in it, its just as everyone said it would be.  as drug addicts, we all endure the same tourtures.  to say i am not unique would be a mamouth undersatement.  i am now that junky i was convinced i would never be…..”the relapser” when i was sober i saw these people struggling to get clean, in and out of dox, getting a couple days or weeks.  with that look in their faces, shame mixed with exhaustion. i saw them and thought “thank god that’s not me” and “jesus, why don’t they just chill.” or “i could never do that, keep coming back,” i’ll admit it right now, i pittied them in a condescending way.  not only did  i get sober @ 25, i was going to stay sober, and work this program like no other.  i had already forgotton what it was like to be there, and i was told this would happen too…..i was told this attitude could lead to relapse. but i didn’t care. now all i want is to fill in that missing piece.  because i think i will never get sober until i put that piece where it belongs.  i have to fucking care. why is it so hard for me? i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life….i can’t care about what happens to me.  i can’t put my actions with their consequences…..violating probation, all my bills in collection, making my mom cry, losing friends, getting arrested, getting hep c.  all of these things are debilitating.  my life is in shambles.  and i am sad on a level there are no words for.  but  just can’t bring myself to believe there is any other way.  my life has always been a mess, it will always be a mess.  this is the way it s been for my family all along.  we’ve alwys acepted the idea that there is only so much good life to go around, and we were just not on the list.  it’s the defeatist attitude that has always been my undoing. i HAVE to find that piece, the self worth i dont’ have. if i believed i deserved better, i woul fight tooth and nail to get it. but i just don’t have it in me.

bitter end

i am waiting for clearance from my boss to take a few days off of work. she doesn’t know this is to go to detox. god help me i need to get clean. and i can’t do it without help. i’ve been trying the “at home suboxone detox” for months now, and it doesn’t work. i need help, i need to get away from jesse, and i need to get my life back. i am going to die….and soon, this is my last chance, i’ve pushed it too far.

so i got on my knees today before work, after my morning shot and said this prayer. “god, please just let me live long enough to get into detox and start over. please just let me sruvive long enough, and then i’ll take care of it from there. amen.”

we’ll see how it goes. it’s now or never, and i know it. 

wanna go for a ride?

tick tock tick tock….i hate waiting for lunch. it has only been a couple weeks of meeting jesse on lunch break, but already i have made it an essential part of my daily routine. i don’t have a habit that makes it imperiitve to get off e in the middle of the day…but that makes the afternoon that much more of a treat. it’s always more fun if you don’t *need* it.

it was a little before two o clock. i am nervously  watching my phone for the text to save me….my poor coworker has no idea whats going on, she thinks i meet this kid @ lunch to cheat on my boyfriend. whatever she wants to think is fine with me, as long as it has nothing to do with me going on a late lunch to mainline drugs…..

the phone vibrates……”i’m here, come down.” i grab my bag and i’m on my way. “see you in an hour, CeeCee.” i yell over my shoulder, i’m on the elevator before she can respond.

jesse is parked in front of the building, i jump in the passenger seat and we are off into traffic.

“there’s a present for you over there, hun.” he smiles. i look in the door handle of the xtera, and there it is……i think i hear angels singing……the biggest shot of dope a girl my size can handle. “thank you darlin.” i take the rig into my trembling hand and as we stop at a red light, i get off. warmth rushes over me and i get that heroin taste in the back of my throat…i let go and melt into the leather seat. the light turns green and we go again.

“so you won’t believe what happened to me today…” jesse starts on a pretty standard ‘what i had to go through to cop’ story and i listen intently, i love these drug dramas…various hustles and interatctions, captivating. one of jesse’s special skills is getting drugs without any money at all. i’m not sure how he pulls it off, it’s over my pretty little head, but it works, and i am definatly appreciative of it. we are driving down a side street, faster than i would like. not only does jesse speed, but he tailgates, which makes the second part of our lunch date almost unbearble….the coke.

“i’ve got something else, if you want it.” he always says it like that, like i wont’ want it, or something. “hand it over.” i laugh, drawing water back into my set. he hands me the bag of coke, and i cook myself a nice little lunch up, and as he yeilds to let some old lady walk her dog across the street, i get a massive register, and push down the plunger. i lick the blood off my arm, and the bells are ringing to beat the band. my heart crushes up against my chest, and i am instantly convinced we are going to crash.

“hey, don’t go so fast.” i yell, slamming my hand down on the dash.

“ah, yes…coked out paranoid kaia from hell. i was wondering if you were coming to lunch today.” jesse laughed.

“whatever, just don’t go so fast.” he just laughed some more.

we spent the rest of the lunch doing laps around my work, alternating coke and dope shots, talking love, karma and the grateful dead. i know these lunchbreaks are lethal to the end of my day, and going back to work after such an escapade is not only irresposible, but it’s begging for trouble. i just can’t seem to break the cycle.  sounds familiar, somehow……

no matter what, i long to fill this void. with drugs, with companionship, with a feeling like i’m wanted and needed, like jesse wants and needs me around. i know it’s not good, and i know it can only lead to more shit. but knowing it and doing something about it seem to be oceans apart from one another. i’ll just enjoy the ride, while it lasts…..