Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Hanging On in Quiet Desperation

Man oh man I hate this. I cannot describe to you the emotional distress I'm experiencing. I haven't wanted to talk about it because it's embarrassing and They make me talk about it. I hate Them. It's not Their fault, but I hate Them nonetheless. I also haven't wanted to talk about it because I've been made knowledgable to the fact that being a drug addict isn't so bad of a problem and I should quit whining until we find a cure for cancer and acheive world peace. So I shut the fuck up. I know there are more people with more problems than me and of course it makes me feel bad that I have a home and a warm bed and food to eat and I still don't want to wake up in the morning.
Apparently I am a drug addict of the highest caliber. I took a "test" today at outpatient rehab and they wanted to send me back to intensive, live-in rehab. Dammit I swear every time I tell the truth someone wants to institutionalize me. WHY? Aren't I good enough? No. Never will be.
I hate this place it is no longer my home.
I feel like there is nothing to look forward to. The people in Recovery say that feeling will go away. Bullshit. It's not going away yet. My spirit is dying. I have a very hard time relating to these people because for most of them being Sober is the only thing anyone has ever expected or hoped that they acheive. Not so for me. Being Sober is the least I could do for "them," comparatively. My cousin is competing to become Miss fucking Texas for god's sake. I mean what do you say at Thanksgiving?

"So what have you been doing???"
"Well, Rehab was a blast."

Yeah. Sucks. This is where I am. I just don't see it getting any better.
I feel so beat down. Having to tell these people the most embarrassing, horrible, shameful events of my life--having to rehash everything I've tried to distance myself from. I don't trust Them, any of Them. The wound is deep this time.
It's a selfish program.
When I hear myself telling Them this drug, that drug; this many years, that many years, I hear my own voice screaming back at me YOU'RE A FAILURE, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE.
I don't want to do it anymore. All I've ever wanted is to be normal. This is nowhere near normal.
It's more the ritual than the drug, anyway. That's where the real addiction lies.
Plus, everyone I know in Recovery is fat. I don't wanna be fat.
I've never been successful at anything I've done, except MAYBE drug addiction. I feel so shitty about myself I sometimes think maybe I should just do what I'm good at.
Probably not.
But god it hurts so much. I am having major physical reactions to these emotions. I haven't felt this bad in years. My chest hurts, I cant breathe, I get nauseous or just plain sick to my stomach. I am ill. I can literally feel my heart breaking sometimes.
I am mourning Myself.
In prison I learned this technique of turning off my emotions. I try to do it now and feel like I'm going to rip the next person that speaks out of turn to me into confetti. Rip them apart until they feel as bad as I do. Destroy them until they beg god to help them every night like I do.
You know what I think? I think They fucked me up. They make you tell everyone "I'm Blush and I'm an Addict" every time you speak. Well if I'm an Addict then what the fuck am I doing here? Why aren't I high? You know this would be much easier to deal with if I were. But you won't let me though you do make me believe I am something bad, ugly--evil. So I'm a drug addict. A worthless drug addict. If that is what I am, why am I here? Why do you want me to be part of society? Why do you want me to be alive? Why should I try?

These are the questions I need answered.