I’m not Dysfunctional, Part C

100 posts, here. And I don’t know what to say in “celebration” of this.

I don’t… want to go back. To normal life. I can’t, I’ve been out for too long.

I… can’t even envision a life anymore that doesn’t revolve around drugs. I mean, for me.

Like I don’t even know what I could do, or where I could even go.

I mean I don’t want to be a statistic but… I just… I don’t know.

Like, I don’t know if I’m even brave enough to walk away from the drugs and be like… a normal person. It’s like, that would be so… difficult, and weird. And I would hate it, because to do that would be to admit how flawed I really am as a person. It would be to admit how dumb I was in living this life and making so. MANY. Mistakes.

I don’t want to admit that. I mean, to face up to what a colossal fuckup I really am. I just can’t. I can’t do that, no way.

God, I don’t know what hurts more, these days. The drugs, my various illnesses, or this godawful emotional pain that seems to underpin all of it.

I don’t know what to do. It’s like, even if I got off the drugs, I would probably still get back on, right? Because of this other stuff, especially the emotional stuff. Fuck me.

I don’t want to live without drugs. I don’t; I can’t. I can’t go back to being that person I was, before. I just can’t. I mean, I hated that person. I mean, my girlfriends seemed to like him, but… I… didn’t. I guess.

Or maybe I’m making excuses to continue being a junkie, I don’t know.

I don’t know.

Maybe I fucked up in not seeking professional help for this.

Yeah… maybe.

Fuck.

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