Southern Roy relapsed.

I found out yesterday that he’s been using for a few days. He went to Opa Locka to cop some H. He pawned his pool stick for it. I talked to him, and he’s unable to stop right now. I told him I love him and hope he comes back.  

There’s an understanding amongst most addicts. We can feel the inability to stop in others. There’s nothing to say, nothing to do. You can’t fight the disease with logic, especially when you’ve already found recovery. The awareness is a motherfucker. 

Abigail’s friend is coming to town tomorrow. After work I’m gonna go over and fuck them both and film it. I’m beginning to like this girl. I think it's because she’s been blowing me off.  Hopefully her friend is cool—but probably not.

I still see her (Ashley) in school and it never ceases to make me feel like shit. The sad part is I know she only feels apathetic. Maybe even a bit of regret for having ever known me.

I’ll have nine months clean on Sunday. That’s a fucking miracle. It’s beautiful to not be in so much pain. I can go to sleep whenever the fuck I want, and oh my god, SLEEP! It took so long to start sleeping. I still only sleep a few hours a night, but hey, I’ll take it. I used to lay in my bed just praying to God to help me sleep. For months, I laid in my bed, tossing and turning and whispering, “Please God, please God, help me sleep, help me sleep just a little please God.” I sleep for like 3 hours at a time now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep through the whole night but sleeping a few hours every other hour is awesome. I don’t sweat when it’s freezing, I don’t ever have to wait in a fucking parking lot ever again, I can buy people Christmas presents, I take showers daily, I have friends (sort of), there’s no bile in my sink, my pants don’t have cigarette holes in them, I can breathe out my nostrils (both of them!), I don’t carry a knife on me anymore, I don’t shit myself anymore, killing myself isn’t an option today, I don’t wait on curbs for hours for drugs, there’s no Chore Boy in my pillow case, I’m having sex, I brush my teeth, there’s no dandruff in my hair, I don’t think about prostituting myself, people don’t leave me death threats on my voicemail, I don’t have to write fake checks, I’m not trying to figure out anyone’s bank card pin code, I’m not getting jumped, my family talks to me, I didn’t go to school today with piss taped to my leg to fake a drug test, I haven’t robbed anyone lately, I eat food everyday… The list goes on and on…

I’m not enslaved to a drug today. The funny part is that I used to tell myself that I actually wanted to live that way. I fought so hard to continue living like that. I heard Ray speak at a meeting and he said, “Shit, I used to smoke crack in an abandoned building. I had six lighters and a milk crate in the dead of winter in Baltimore. All my syringes were as dull as a ball point pen, abscesses all over my arms, I was freezing my fucking ass off… and if you tried to take that away from me, I’d fuck you up, I thought that was my God-given right to live like that. Shit, today, if I saw a dog living like that, I’d call the fucking Humane Society.” 

I was dying laughing. I love Ray.

I’M!
FUCKING!
FREEEEE!

Those fuckers weren’t lying. There really is a new way to live. 

THANK GOD.

December 22nd, 2008

Nine months.

Nine months clean.

NINE MONTHS!

I’m getting used to this whole living thing, it’s not so weird any more. 

Christmas is around the corner. Houses are lighting up, the malls are packed, people are laughing, wives are cooking, kids are running on the streets playing with their toys, presents are being wrapped… But then there’s this whole other world out there. It’s a world where there are no holidays, there is no light and nothing ever changes. 

Drug addiction is 365, 24-7.

Gus is a few days clean now. And yesterday Southern Roy picked up his white key tag. Roy smoked $3,400 in seven days and the last few of them he was pawning shit. It’s funny, when people go out, they go straight to the other people who relapsed before them. Chris #2, Gabe, Laura, all of them using together.

Gabe has been banging and smoking crack. Mind you he’s 19, comes from a good family, Jewish, drives a C-class, and came to the meetings just doing pills. You can go to meetings and meet some awesome people, but you can also come in here and meet some really fucked up people.

I took Southern Roy and Gus out to eat at IHOP after the meeting. Fucking dumb and dumber. Terrible influences on each other.

I’ll talk to you later! I’ve got to go to the mall!