music plays the moments, pauses the memories, stops the pain and rewinds happiness.

I've always been a music lover. Music has always been a way for me to cope. I listen to songs that express my mood or that inspire me. I've always loved songs that are eating disorder related, as seen by older posts about Marianas Trench. The lead singer is bulimic but also  had a heroin addiction. So after my own addiction developed, their songs took on a whole new meaning for me. I could related to them in both ways and I felt like they were written for me, about me, or by me. Something about his lyrics really touched my soul.

I could so easily feel his pain, his struggles, his triumphs, his set backs, etc. Every single word was etched into my own heart and mind.

Now that I am sober (almost 11 months!!!!!), some music is hard for me to listen to. I've always loved rap about dope dealing as well as songs about being an addict or using drugs. So it's sort of hard to listen to the ones that almost promote using. But I can't seem to stop myself. I love the songs too much to change the channel when they come on. They get stuck in my head.

I think I like them because they also give me this false boost in my confidence. I listen to them and remember my past when I was a somewhat big shot in the drug world. At least, behind scenes anyways. It takes me back to driving around selling or, more recently, buying. I just go right back to every single high moment where we'd drive around bumping music about drugs and just have a blast. It's like we glorified and intensified our use buy listening to songs about selling dope. So listening to them now it brings me back to those days when I thought I was so cool. It was like I had a secret that nobody else got to know. I felt special. It felt amazing to sort of know exactly what the songs where saying when most other people wouldn't make the connection. I felt like I was privy to top secret, cool kid information. And it almost gave me a bigger high than just being ripped did.

So I listen to them, I think, to try and acheive that same high again. I can't have the dope, but I can still have the songs about dope. And sometimes it does give me that same satisfaction. That same natural high.

But other times it's nothing more than a bad trigger. The music doesn't seem good enough and I want more. I think, this music would be better if I had some pills, coke, ice, whatever. And so starts a craving cycle.

I don't know if I should stop. Should I avoid any songs that make using seem like a dope thing to do (excuse the pun)? Or should I keep doing it. Sometimes I justify it by thinking that it's better to listen to the music than to actually go out and get high. I don't know. I'm so torn about this. I don't want to give it up. I feel like it's one of the last pieces I have of my addiction and I'm clinging on to them like they're my life.

Much love, xx.

you just need me to be stable, but i won't be able.

Ugh, I miss it so, so, so, so, so much sometimes.


Addiction. It'll never lose its grip on you.








Sing Sing by Marianas Trench!
Listen to it, you know it's amazing.

a father should be his son's first hero, and his daughter's first love.

Today was Father's Day. Well technically yesterday, but until I fall asleep (if I do at all), it's still today.

My younger brother and I went to brunch with my dad's side of the family. My mom was still out of town visiting one of my older brothers. Everyone around kept saying happy father's day to us in general and to the dads there specifically. I found it hurtful and insulting that they kept throwing this around so lightly with no regard to me and my brother.

Because "'Happy' Father's Day" is only happy when you still have your dad.

It's our first Father's Day without him, and I miss him more than anything in the world. It just makes me sad to think about how disappointed he'd be in me if he could see how my life has gone downhill since he passed away. And I'm in no way blaming my problems on him dying. It was my personal decision and weakness at a time of vulnerability that led me down this path. At least he would be somewhat glad that I'm off them, but he'd still be ashamed of me for starting in the first place.

Anyway, so along with people not seeming to know me and my brother might be a bit sad, I was also having major anxiety. Obviously because of the fact that any food setting is automatically a trigger for me (especially when there's no vegetarian options, except for waffles with sugary fruit and whipped cream), and my social anxiety seemed to be extremely high (probably because I wasn't high in a social setting for the first time since my dad died). My heart felt like it would explode, my breathing was rapid and shallow, and I couldn't stop shaking. Nobody even seemed to notice. I finally couldn't take it anymore, so I did the only thing I could do-grabbed my ipod and blasted some Mariana's Trench (Josh Ramsay is the love of my life), which is super close to my heart because of the drug/ED based songs. Funny though, how as soon as I had one of their songs on, my aunt decides to scold me like I was a five year old, telling me to "Take those out of your ears and get over here." Lovely.

Moving on, as soon as we got home later, there was a voicemail on our phone. Someone letting us know they are thinking about us today and hoping we're okay. My heart rate spiked, along with my anger and sadness. Music wasn't going to be enough this time, my belly felt too full, I felt like I was 600lbs, and I couldn't deal with it anymore. After I purged my soul away, I sat down and cried, wishing I had oxy, or Xanax, or something . Anything to numb what I was feeling- depressed, lonely, angry, disgusted, to name a few.

Now I know it seems like I've contradicted myself, saying I was mad nobody said anything about my dad at brunch, and then being mad when someone did. The thing is, there is no right way to handle this. Anything said or done will bring back the sadness and memories and it will hurt either way. Plus I've been on edge the last week and a bit. I managed to get a bit of sleep, but only after my boyfriend and I got into an argument. I was overtired and bitchy, he was drunk, and Jenna (my ED/addict alter ego) was jealous that he was under some form of intoxication and I had nothing. I felt emotionally drained and finally crashed for a few hours, only to wake up and have to deal with all this bullshit.

The only real upside to all of this is that my body finally stopped totally hating me. I finally felt little to no pain today. Even using I still felt pains (if I crashed or went without oxy for more than a few hours I'd wake/end up dope sick). I'm hoping that since I can finally sit still without pain and if I can stay relaxed and calm I'll be able to get some sleep tonight. And more that four hours.

Well, I've rambled on about nothing for long enough. Time to shut my eyes and hope for escape.

Oh, and Dad, I miss you and love you. Happy Father's Day.

this will be the last time, everytime's the last time.

So, I haven't posted in anything since the night I said I was getting clean. Not because I didn't try, but because my computer was not in operating condition.

But the big question is, have I stopped using? Not totally. I wanted to cut back, and like, wean myself off of them, because I thought that if I stopped cold Tofurkey (not turkey, I'm a vegetarian, haaha) that the withdrawal would be so horrible that I would give in too easily. I know how weak I am, and I didn't want to put myself in a place where I'd succumb to my weakness.

Anyways, to summarize what's happened over the last week, I wrote my last post, got high, crashed and went to bed. I woke up feeling awful, and had so many things to do. I got high again just to make it through the day. I made a plan and cut all my drugs into small pieces, promising to cut back more and more each day. This went okay for a few days, but then I came into a bit of extra money, and I figured, hey, why not have a little bender as a goodbye to my addiction. So I started using like it's going out of style (ahaha, Mariana's Trench Lyrics <3).

Fast forward to yesterday: I totally ran out of pills. Like totally. My whole city is dry, because of the new Neos, which are the replacement that makes it impossible to use to get high. So I had none left, and no way to get more.

This is when I realized that as much as I want to be clean. I also still really like using. It makes me sad to know that I'm only going to be clean because I have no other choice. It's depressing to know that I couldn't do it, and that I never really even tried. That I will get sober, but not because I chose to. And the problem with that is, if I don't stop because I want to, as soon as they're in my face again, I'll be crushing and snorting.

You might say, "Well, maybe you won't. Maybe after you're clean you'll decide it's not worth it."

Haah. Wrong. Because somehow, I found some. And guess what? As soon as I got them tonight, after not having them for a day or so, I had it in my mouth sucking the coating off, dying to feel it burn my nose.

But again, I don't have much. And I'll probably run out all over again. And then I'll be sober by force, again. Maybe that will be the last time. But everytime is the last time.