Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

The Ninety Day Curse

I thought I knew what rock bottom would be like...but that was wishful thinking. No one knows what that popular saying really is until they are there...and then, you know. And the thought keeps occurring to me if I will ever go there again. Even madness cannot hold a shine on addiction when it comes to sheer perspicacity.

'One more time' sounded like a good enough excuse to tell anyone who needed to know. Of course, I would lie to the rest. Omission is the key to a successful drug binge. As I try to write this post, I have no depth perception and both hands have no feeling from my middle fingers to the heel. My focus is blunted to the point where I am struggling to think and if I were to share with you all of the things that happened to me to cause these (and many others) symptoms, you would be shocked.

In my mind, I was somewhere else. I don't really know where, but it wasn't here in my home. As fortune would have it, the meth I had must have been very strong, and because I hadn't had any during the previous three months (and the fact that we always begin where we left off), the perfect storm was brewing and about to let all hell loose upon my soul. Once I had that first dose, all logic and any common sense went out the door.

It wasn't until later, after having more meth, that I realised there was something in my eye. When I went to look in the mirror, it wasn't a spec of dust, but something alive and evil. I knew it couldn't remain in there, so I began pulling out all the eyelashes on the top rim with a pair of tweezers to somehow make it leave. After God knows how long I was digging around in my eye, I stopped. But I knew that thing was still in there behind my eyeball and so, for three days, I tried to get that thing out of my eye. I'm lucky not to be blinded by my persistence. I know that thing is still in there, but at least now I have its respect. It's seen what I am willing to do, and the pain I am willing to go through to try and rid myself of its presence.

I'm a mess...no, I am beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Yesterday, I broke down, and it took a long time to regather myself. I felt more alone then than I have in my entire life. I needed someone to hold me and tell me I was going to be alright. But there was no one and the only way to stop what was going on was to call myself a loser and that I was soft. I had to do something.

I apologise to everyone for failing again. But this is not the end. I won't stop trying until I am either dead or get meth out of my life forever..