My Blog

To start off we are not doin so hot this fine morning. Growing up whenever I got a haircut I would always have a major meltdown. And it’s happening right now. I forgot to ask them to snip away at the ends so it didn’t look so straight edge like it does when you get a haircut. You straighten your hair and it’s perfectly straight. Chunky. I fucking hate it. Everything is stained from the dye including my hands which fare making me cringe every time I look at them. I’m so picky and negative towards myself it’s unfortunate and I’m trying to work on it.

I had a using dream lastnight and it was pretty dramatic as always, and I had my drug of choice on me, but whenever I had a moment to actually smoke it I didn’t really want to. In my dream it wasn’t doing the trick anymore so I just kept putting off having a blast. This is a good sign. But I’m so fucking sick of dreaming about Caveman. That is my plugs nickname. The last time I used was with him, and when I say I have so many days clean, it meant that many days since I’d seen that asshole. But I see him most every night in my dreams. So that has my irritation heightened.

Getting sober for me is like starting fresh with no anti-depressents and waiting for them to finally start taking effect. Letting go of the drugs that helped me escape my reality sets off the grief process in me. I’m grieving over my addiction. And I’m waiting for the program I’m working to finally take effect on my life. I have moments where I’m happy I think. But my thought process goes straight to “this wont last long, you’re depressed, REMEMBER?”