Wake up, contemplate how much I used the night before. Fuck, another blow to my bank account. How am I gonna make up for this one? That's it, today's the day I'm stopping, so go damn fed up. Contemplate some more, lay in bed, might as well try to enjoy the remaining high I got left. It isn't much though, the awesome wave has passed and now I'm left with this murky film still separating my mind from reality.
Afternoon rolls in, I've officially accomplished nothing with my day. Time to stare at my pathetic bank account and figure out how I'm gonna pay for this months bills while still making room for some drug money. Jesus christ how can I keep doing this?! How many more times is it gonna take for me to break? I'm not a man, I'm a fucking boy who can't get out of his own way. Stop, stop beating yourself down so hard, you've come so far. There will be a time where all of this is over, and you'll have your life back along with everything that makes you happy. A sense of relief washes over, no sense in sitting here beating myself up. Things will change, they have to, eventually. They're not gonna change tomorrow though, so who cares if I get high tonight again, right? Wrong, you idiot.
Night comes, thinking over the things I could go out and do with friends. Anything other than getting high, that's the right move. Ugh but I don't want to go out with these withdrawal sensations, sweating at the bar, getting tired early, literally having zero drive for anything other than to use. Fuck it, i'll wind up spending sixty dollars or more out at the bar anyway, why not put it to use for pills instead. I know I'm gonna wind up using tomorrow anyway even if I do go out tonight, so more money in my pocket right? Wrong you piece of shit, but go ahead and do what your gonna do anyway. No one's watching.
Arrive at the ATM, take my card out to withdraw money. Every move is so painful. Just do it quick, like a bandaid, the pain will be over soon. Hop in my car, make the call, start heading towards the fucking epicenter of opiates and any other kind of drug. Think about how much I'm willing to put at risk with every trip like this I take. What if tonight's the night I get caught? I'll get locked up, pay fines, have a record, lose my job, lose everything. Maybe only then would THAT be the end of all this bullshit. Is that what it's going to take? Will that even stop me in the grand scheme of things?
Pull up, make the call, park. Try to sit and chill out as inconspicuously as possible. Ha, yeah good luck with that. Just sit and pray you don't run into trouble. Get in, get out, you've done it hundreds of times before.
Phone rings, relief, he's coming. 20 minutes pass, where the fuck is he?! Mother fucker, I can't take this bullshit, every time. This isn't fucking worth the stress. Phone rings, he's here, finally. Make the exchange, time to get the fuck out of dodge before something goes wrong. Start making my way out of town, while every second staring into my rearview just waiting for those lights to go on. What's my plan? What will I say? Fuck it, just go, you'll be out soon enough.
Finally, I'm home. Jesus christ what a process to go through. It's all over now though, time to enjoy. Walking up the stairs and into my place I can't help but wonder is tonight the night I overdose? Nah, you're good, you've done this over a hundred times. Just do it responsibly, whatever the fuck that means. Sit down, take out the goods and set them on the table next to me. Think about how I'm gonna split this stuff up over the next few hours. Crush up the first set, roll that one single dollar I have left in my wallet….take down that first big line of blue powder. Beautiful. Sit back, relax. The amazing warmth and sense of security washes over my entire body. Every thought that enters my mind comes with complete optimism and excitement, life is so good. Everything's going to be fine, you deserve this after all you've been through. Time for the next set, not as awesome as the first, but still so sweet. Hours roll by, start to nod out. One pill left, which at this point won't do anything more than put me under. Maybe I should save it for tomorrow? Nah, fuck it. Pass out.
5AM. Wake up to the TV still on, mouth is dry, headache coming on. Get some water, go back to sleep.
11AM. Wake up, shades open, the bright sun overwhelms my eyes. Sounds of the world coming from outside, sounds of all the people who aren't addicted, who don't have to watch themselves ruin their own lives with no control. Fucking christ what have I done, what am I doing?! I'm so scared. I have no one to go to, yet refuse to go to anyone. No one will understand, my life will be over. This has to end…I'll die if it doesn't.