My Drug Induced Dark Journal Entry: Regrets I Have

Here is an entry I wrote a few years back when I was not doing anything to better myself or become the woman I wanted to be. Read some of my other posts to see my progress.

August 19, 2019

As soon as I start to believe I am breaking myself out of this childish rut and that maybe happiness waits around the corner I get sucked back deeper into the rabbit hole. The procrastination, waste my life away because I know I can and believe I’m invincible hole.  

I started going to bed a bit earlier as well as waking up earlier, with the attempt to be more productive but once again I allowed fear and my nerves to get the best of me. For the past week I have had my phone off. I just don’t have it in me to deal with friends and family, too disappointed in myself. So I have been sulking in my room day in and day out. As per usual but now more than ever. I hardly even eat. Staying up until 7 am, sleeping until 5/6 pm. I usually go downstairs a bit after I wake up, just to make an appearance at least and get something quick to munch on to get rid of the queasy feeling in my stomach. Then I’ll scrounge around for some pills and weed if I’m running low and then back up to my room for the night it is.  

It is because weed and oxy is so easily available to me I have become dependant on it for my source of short-lived “happiness.” I honestly used to be okay with just weed until I tried mdma and realized how much smoother my tokes go down and how each toke almost makes you feel like you’re peaking again. All you have to do is keep taking small amounts of m throughout the night/day and you can stay up for hours taking tokes without feeling tired plus feel on top of the world. Eventually the mdma really started to hurt my body, I was waking up in excruciating pain everyday and that is why I kept doing it I guess, I felt like shit if I didn’t; I became dependant on it. But the pain was too much in the mornings I could not take it anymore it literally felt like somebody was holding onto every bone in my body applying as much pressure as they can, squeezing, twisting and grinding my bones. My spine was the worst and my arms we’re pretty bad too. It also scared me when I heard that mdma drains your spinal fluid overtime. You need spinal fluid for nutrients and for protection for your spine. I was scared I would be in that pain my whole life so I stopped doing it everyday. 

That’s when I realized that weed isn’t really the most exciting thing anymore. It used to be, but I understand the whole gateway drug thing as much as I will never admit it to my parents because of all the times I have told them that that was the most stupid thing ever and that it depended on the person. That weed and pill, or coke high is a way different high and that I had no interest in trying to feel that kind of high. That the only reason I smoke weed is because it is natural but that I would never be stupid enough to put chemicals into my body. Yeah so, I’ll never admit to my parents they we’re right but oh were they so right. Weed just isn’t the same anymore. Without the mdma to help make my nights more exciting I instead started to drink a lot. Alcohol didn’t necessarily help me to stay up but it allowed me to escape plus my tokes felt nicer going down. Then alcohol wasn’t enough so I decided to try one of my moms prescribed oxy one time and oh my god, I fell in love. I swore I would only do it a few times but once you see how quick your pain could be taken away, not just psychically but emotionally as well, you no longer can imagine how you ever even lived without them.  After a while though one becomes two and then two becomes four and well I feel like my mom has clearly started to catch on that I have been taking her pills..although I have also got them from other sources but when I can’t contact them my mom is my only back up. But she hid them and I had to go a night without a few nights ago and man was it hell. I thought I would be okay with just my weed for the night but nope my lungs fucking killed and I felt like I had gut rot, like this gross burning hole in the pit of my stomach each time I took a breath. It was hell. I couldn’t take a toke without feeling like I was going to pop a blood vessel from coughing so much afterwards. 

  

I know I am simply add more shit to the mix of my shitty life, I am only making things harder on myself. But I guess it has already been too late to change that for a long time.. I already fucked up when I relied on a substance for a form of joy. Now I don’t know how to feel even a sliver of joy without something altering my brain. Or it’s all in my head and I’m a weak little shit. All I know is I am creating an even worse prison for myself. I do drugs to want to escape but when I am sober all I do is think about the drugs I do and how much I hate myself for doing them and how I know I am creating a negative lifestyle for myself where happiness is always going to feel just out of my reach as long as I keep relying on some drug for my form of joy.  

I am not the kind of person that should do drugs, all I do is think too much and beat myself up about it and then do it again. If I start to get these negative thoughts while tripping on something some day who’s to say I am not going to do something I will regret? Who’s to say I won’t create a living nightmare for myself while tripping? Who’s to say I can’t warp my brain altogether from thinking certain ways while high. It scares me plus I’ve heard stories about people never coming back from a bad trip.. Yet I still do it. Maybe I don’t have as much ambition for the future as I thought I did because if I did why would I keep hurting my body the way I do? People that care about themselves and their future don’t do this to themselves.. Ugh 

Tomorrow is so far away and I feel so nice right now so, as of right now I shall say that tonight will be the last night. Tomorrow I will do my best to try to do something productive to get my mind off of wanting to be high. I need to get over these bad habits.. This is not me. I can’t keep stealing from the people I love, the only people who really love me. I feel so fucking horrible. Clearly not horrible enough. I’m an addict and I fucking hate that word and I hate myself for saying it, for having to say it because I am one.  

It’s in my blood. But that’s no excuse I don’t see my sisters doing drugs. My dad was a chronic gambler when we we’re younger and before we we’re born. His dad was also a gambler. My dad has strong will power though and went to gamblers anonyms and gained his life back.  

My moms side of the family are all addicts, no exaggeration almost every single one of her cousins, aunts, uncles are all alcoholics and also pop pills like candy.  

Like I have mentioned multiple times I am so scared for my future.. I wish I was more like my dad. He never smoked a cigarette a day in his life or weed or tried any kind of drug, plus only drinks beer on occasion when everyone else is at a get together or when we’re chilling at the bonfire at the trailer or whatever.  

I am tired of being held back by my lame desires to self destruct and bring negativity on myself, I am sick of excuses, the fake tendencies, the lies and the bullshit. I am so sick of myself.  

Anyways I am feeling nice right now, I will get out of this rut tomorrow but for now I will enjoy these feelings and allow the negativity to disappear for now.  

 Night

Why is it that night time is my only source of serenity 

Opposed to days, where an unrelenting darkness sits atop my shoulders 

How do I dispose of this entity? 

Where does this darkness come from, does it have a name? 

Once you get used to the seclusion the world becomes a scarier place, I guess I’m to blame 

Yet I’m running day by day, trying to get away 

But the people and the places make it so much harder to escape 

Too much commotion in a world where conformity is the norm 

Battling with who to be in this world, how to be it 

Limited resources, grand expectations, in the middle of a shit storm 

Night time is the only time I feel alive, I am free 

Unlike days, I feel its the only time okay to bring out “me” 

Trapped inside a body I can not escape 

I try to run, distance myself from the casing I was given, separate a body from a mind 

But it keeps finding me 

To people I am who I am on the outside, in consequence nighttime is the only time I feel undefined  

I want to be free, I want to be like them 

Bloom into a flower 

But in me, all I see is a stem 

They say I’m the only one who can free myself from the prison in my mind 

For now.. The night time is my solace, my freedom, I’m tired of feeling unaligned 

I’m at my end, tired of being sick and tired 

I’m the only one to blame 

I’m a mess 

So, I guess you could say the darkness does have a name  

My name

  

If you are interested in reading about a variety of different subjects such as mental health, inside the minds of disturbed artists, the importance of being an introvert, importance of body language and non-verbal communication, the importance of mental rehearsal and imagery, the power of our minds, mindfulness, metaphysics and the cosmic world and how all the great genius’ of the past have tapped into this power to achieve seeming miracles, addiction, abuse, the effects loneliness and so much more, please check out some of my other posts: