this is after being strung out for a month. Poured out the contents and took a picture so maybe I can soberly look back and remember the despair of being high all the time, and not get high again. Everything I’ve done in this month, reduced to
An 8 ball of meth
Six used syringes
Two empty bags
Key chain (with the na keytags)(also has car keys for the car I cant drive)
two nametags to work, where i go to work high everyday which I didnt think was too bad until someone aske me if I was high at work
And how I said “yes” and he looked sad, I wish he would fix me. I care a lot more than ill act. I would love to sleep next to him. God he smells so nice, and id love being his slut all the time.but hes married. I just want to feel loved. I hurt.
I wish I had never gotten high.
I am not having fun geting high anymore.
Im punishing myself for making him leave.
It has to be the end of that. I can’t kill him like that, getting high all day. He has a family. Little boys.
I think this is the worst time around, I have distracted my self by thinking about how fucked up life is. Im doing stuff that would have been repulsive in my sobriety. How could I lie to everyone about being high all the time. How could I go into my brothers home, thatd him and his roommates so graciously opened up to me for last month while I await rehab, constantly choice to get high, in their house.
I like to think my brother cant ever imagine me being high, so his image of me isn’t getting high. Im still his sister and we went through a lot of shittt stuff together. That means something. I still remember what it felt like when he asked a person who can only be described as my partner in crime,if I was high, he said I cant lie to your brother, so he said not currently… (we ran out)
The boy who sent that to my brother was strange. I swear we stayed in this room together for like two months. I loved every second of it. I love the way he put drugs in me, such a lovely feeling, it made me feel spoiled.
We once bragged about how much of a mess we were together, we were finding an ally way by spokane.street and fifteenh street. We laughed. We had breakfast jacks. A year before my.grandma sent a gift card to me that we used to buy seven breakfast jacks.
We were normal together for so long. We were friends, we werent always planning fraud against corporations that already have millions invested in them.
I love you, partner in crime, we were always so dynamic and I love how you make me feel okay.
Drugs took so much away from me but I haven’t died yet so I stil have hope.
I hate this.