I’m messing up again, no not in the heroin-arms-call-me-baby kinda way, but in another if not more significant way. I’m messing up with the love of my life.
Mostly, I feel out of it, oblivious to his pain, knee deep in my own night sweats, my own anxieties. I know he needs me more than I need him right now. But I keep pulling him into my rib cage, he holds onto th bone bars and cries out, again, I feel nothing. Too medicated to realize I’m the one killing my only hope.
I need to get a job, but nigling doubts hold me back. I’m scared I’ll fail. He’s riding his hopes on this. He needs me to make the moolah because we’re stuck, he’s being sued, we might lose ththe car, wait wait I can’t crack, I need that job, I’m too weak, I’m sick, wait no I’m screaming inside screaming at the top of my lungs, my bones are cracking, I’m in doubt, were gonnna lose the car, were going to die without my job. We’re not going to make it this time.
I’ve built a wall around my mind, so not a single person may find me. I can’t read him. He can’t read me. We need to break the walls, bring out the trumpets, marry his kingdoms ruler to my queen, build trust. It’s so simple ain’t it? Ain’t it?
I can’t hold the details together, I can’t sew them into my seams. You said what? When was that? I forget. I don’t know. I’m going to hide now.
There must be a way to return to normality. To a time when he kisses me, touches me again, instead of me forcing my desperate lips onto his reluctant, miserable ones. When we can look with laughing eyes at each other, instead of tearful ones.
how do I go back? Or is it forward?
The pale angel, whispering and angular, is at the center of a fragmented dream world. His vocal poetry is haunting and lithe – winding light around his stairstep-spine. Call him “Beautiful One.” Call him “Best Friend.” Call him “You-Take-My-Breath-Away.” The only instrument he requires is freedom, the type that moves with dissonant waves – all lyricism and vigor, like a breakdown made for dreamers. But, I don’t think he saw me. I don’t think he noticed my desperation for something real, for someone to touch my ribcage-elbows-collarbone and affirm my existence. Can I help but to want to be danced upside down, to spin around like youthful romance, to jump and be okay? I look into my bathroom mirror, striped down bare and ready to take my shower. It’s 3:00am but I have nowhere to be tomorrow, or the next day or the next.
Knock me out every time they touch me
I wanna feel a kiss just crush me
And break me down
I haven’t written about Kevin yet. Steve and I broke up in December and it was really really tough. I cut my arms terribly and now have long, pink, puffy scars. It was the literal worst. I thought I was going to die so many times. I fantasized about it constantly. Then something incredible happened. My life was saved. I met Kevin online – I noticed him immediately on the site and messaged him. It was like magic – we connected instantly. Now we have been dating (in person) for about 2 months.
I’m scared of how hard I fell for him. I constantly question my feelings – are they real? is this really happening? I don’t know anymore. He cares about me like no one else – I don’t think I have ever been cared for so much. Sometimes I still think about Steve but it’s becoming harder and harder to remember him. It’s like Kevin is erasing that whole disaster. I remember bits and pieces. Foreheads touching, toads, flashes of memories that make me smile sadly.
I feel kindof sad today. I haven’t really been seeing things but I have been doing a lot of heroin. I don’t think I’m an addict yet though. I love it so much and I love that Kevin and I can get high together. It’s the absolute best to be able to be totally honest with someone. I’ve never had that in my whole life. really. I lie to everyone constantly. Even when I don’t have to, I lie. I don’t even feel bad about it.
I also haven’t been eating or sleeping. The eating isn’t really an issue though. I can live without eating much. I actually hate eating. It’s a waste of time, money and calories. I like sleeping though and not being able to sleep is really fucking me up. I stay awake in limbo for hours. Shock waves in my chest keep me from nodding off. The heroin helps immensely though. It’s the perfect drug. I don’t feel like I have an eating disorder but sometimes I really think I do. The amount of thinspo on my dash is proof enough.
Back to Kevin. I can honestly say I love him. Which is weird because I never thought I would be able to love anyone but Steve. Kevin literally swept me off my feet. He became everything so soon. I don’t quite trust it yet – but I want to oh I want to. We also have the best sex. Which helps alot. We haven’t really been doing anything because of all the dope and work and such but when we do it’s amazing.
I feel like I’m chasing something – like an idea or a ghost. I feel crazy a lot. I haven’t felt myself all week. I feel broken and bent and disordered. I feel like this is the consequence of some brain chemicals gone haywire. I feel especially moody. I feel like I should be writing poetry all day but I have homework to do that I have been putting off.
I haven’t written in a long time but I got back together with Steve, my ex. Daniil and I dated for all of one month and then I broke up with him for Steve. I feel like Steve really loves me. He would think of me in the time we were apart – just like I would think of him. He’s my everything and I love him so much. Mom thinks I should find another boyfriend and constantly invalidates Steve because he has depression really badly and doesn’t leave his house too often – maybe once every few months. Depression is more debilitating than people give it credit for. I don’t have depression but it does follow me sometimes and it surrounds me in the people that I love. Steve is so loving. He still calls me kitten. It was rough going for a while when I was seeing Daniil AND him. He was utterly suicidal at the thought of sharing me or even thinking about me with some other guy. We made a suicide pact at one point. We were both overwhelmed with feelings after being reunited – it was almost too much for both of us. We made it through though.This was the beginning of the summer.
It’s October now, I’m almost done with the semester. I have this class called The Personal Essay in which I am writing a story called “A Series of Ambulances” as my “memoir” type final project. Mom caught me using heroin in September or August. I did 5 bags that night and it was the most amazing feeling I have ever experienced. Heroin is truly the most amazing drug. However, Mom says that if she finds out I’m doing drugs other than weed (which she strangely accepts) she will kick me out onto the streets and not care where I go – she will also stop college. I have to wait till she has no more financial or otherwise hold on me till I can break out the H or the Coricidin hahaha Although I’m not sure I’d do Triple C again – I’d have to be really desperate.
Time has been hard to kill lately. I’ve been seeing faeries, monsters, flashbacks, visions, and otherwise. I had a traumatic experience a few weeks ago. I was raped but this guy I knew. I don’t know – I feel like it was definitely at least partially my fault but I did say “No, I have a boyfriend” at least 3 times. I guess I’m just not convincing. I was so weak. I didn’t tell Steve about it – I just said that something bad happened and now I have flashbacks and visions.
I also haven’t been Eating. I hate my body so much – everything about it is wrong except maybe my face but not entirely (my cheeks are too fat). I waver between 149 and 150lbs. I gained a lot since my last entry and the summer but I have been systematically starving myself for about 3 weeks now. I eat one meal a day at night, drink coffee, smoke cigarettes, take laxative tea…. any way to be thin. I want to be as skinny as Steve (who, about 3 weeks ago was 5’9 and 107lbs). I want bones to show. My mom and I have been doing Zumba lately – it’s a lot of fun. I think I love dancing – I do Bellydance too. I can’t get enough and it’s a great way to burn calories.
I am reckless. I am wild youth. I will never grow up.
On my 21st birthday, i found myself in Carrier Clinic, a mental hospital, miles and miles from home – and alone, deserted both by Evan, my best friend and Steve, my boyfriend. Evan is the reason i was hospitalized in the first place. He wrongfully accused me of planning to hex him and those he loved and of being on drugs. Only one of these things is true and he seemed more concerned with the one that is not. From then on he wanted nothing to do with me, so naturally i shouted “I’m gonna fucking kill myself”, drove away to Walgreens and downed 150 Tylenol and 100 OTC sleeping pills. They eventually found me and brought the police but i ran like hell until i was handcuffed and held to the ground. Now i am truly and predictably alone with myself and my mind. I just got discharged today but while i was there i found myself aloof and disturbing, I had the most colorful flashback drug dreams about heroin and all i want to do now that i am back home is use but my parents took away my credit card and now i have no money. They also plan on periodically drug testing me which, albeit, isn’t the end of the world. It not going to stop me at least.
I feel sick tonight – the quality of night. The darkness seems to seep into my pores and turn me into one of the monsters that hides so cunningly in it. It’s cold out tonight too. I was just out smoking a cigarette and my dark yard seemed intimidating, I will have no more goodnight calls from Steve and i will never have the warm comfort of knowing Evan will be there to talk to. I have no hobbies and I’m not particularly good at anything. I fear that I will be alone forever. All my comforts have been stripped from me and my emotional state of mind is the equivalent of a cardboard box in the rain.
Being Bipolar and Borderline sucks.
So far, in the past two days i have snorted three (soon to be four) bags of heroin, took a hit of weed out of a one-hitter bottle, smoked weed in a pipe and drank a bottle of Angry Orchard (Apple cider-like beer). The heroin has been wonderful. I can’t even being to imagine life without it, This is my new drug of choice. My birthday is coming up – Friday October 4th, and I’m getting four more bags. The only problem is that I won’t be able to drink a lot or even at all because mixing alcohol and dope is probably the worst idea ever, It leads to blackouts and blackouts, for me, lead to the hospital. My good friend Rachael will be with me though and she’ll be able to watch me also her cousin Sean and my friends Brielle and Analis will be there. I hope to god i get to see Evan too (i don’t care about seeing Steve, my boyfriend because first of all he is a prude and won’t like me drinking/doesn’t know I do drugs and secondly he is antisocial and will want me all to himself – personally Id rather be with friends).
Evan is a curious character too. He would be so mad at me if he found out i was doing heroin. He doesn’t even want to be around me when i’m high on weed. He was around yesterday – a saw it on a facebook status but he didn’t answer my calls or texts! I don’t know why though. Does he think I’m really such a mess? I’m seeing him today after his TSA interview. I just hope he doesn’t notice because I’m totally finding a single bathroom and snorting a line after this class. I haven’t felt this in control in a while.
I binged a little yesterday. I was totally in control all day and all i ate was a small plate of vegetable tempura when suddenly at night (I blame the weed) i went crazy. I had half a chocolate bar, a bunch of sour cream and onion special K crackers, popcorn and a few spoonfuls of ice cream. Considering the calorie total of the day is pretty high for me, it’s not the end of the world and i didn’t gain any weight. I just have to try harder today. Harder so that i can lose what is it now? 33 more pounds and attain perfection.
I think I’m becoming manic again….
i met another boy and he’s far from perfect but he is loyal. i need that. he doesn’t call or text me very much but that’s because he works non-stop. he wants to be a private investigator and he has a job with a firm. he told me once that if i ever do hard drugs – that i would be seeing much less of him… i don’t know – “when i’m left to my own devices, i go fucking insane.” i’m NOT going to tell my therapist nor am i going to consent to her pressuring me to do drug tests. i feel worthless and alone. i shouldn’t because this wonderful loyal boy cares about me and doesn’t want me to be hurt. he’s so endless i feel that all my problems just get lost when i’m with him and when he calls or texts me – i smile. i fucking smile.
and then there’s my “ex” boyfriend. i put ex in quotations because i still cant bear to say that we have broken up and have been broken up for months. our four year anniversary would have been this july 11th. its going to be a hard day for me. really hard. i’m not sure if i can manage the strength to go to work that day. but. i have this fantasy – that he will call me on that day for the “talk about our future” that we were supposed to have. that he still remembers and cares to some extent. i dont want him to forget me – i dont think i could bear it. i loved him so much, fuck that, i still love him. i feel like i always will.
i hate the thought of forgetting, that’s why i keep journals and blogs and the like. i feel nauseated – all i can think about is getting dope, starving myself, and being perfect. it’s all a conflict in my mind and my over-medicated psyche is going insane. i have been having mild bipolar symptoms like hallucinations and a deep never ending depression.
“My own misery is taunting me.
The air stings my lungs, I can barely see.
Wicked eyes surrounding me, the trees are watching silently.
I could try to run but baby what’s the point?”