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regaining-consciousmess · 1 year

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On this day, I felt the adrenaline again. And I liked it.

Today I left work early. On time but that is early- around 5:30, I clocked out at 5:15pm but stayed later because I wanted to help with reducing paperwork on physical inbox.

I told my dad while shopping on PCC that I was going to see him after work, eat something, and I had to do homework. It was undetermined whether I was going to do that at his house or my house. I have been sleeping at his house because my room is under renovation and everything is on top of my bed.

I left work, parked at the Buck Pavilion parking lot, paid 18$ for parking and drove to my house. Left the I-5 using exit 174 towards 130th St.

Went to Lowes in Aurora and 125th (I think) and bought two types of sand paper for the furniture I bought on Monday with my mom. They are from Goodwill on 145th.

Today I had a dream that sparked my interest. I was in my house from Peru, in San Borja, specifically in my room when there were two beds vertically places, parallel to the window. I had 4 men with me, I did not recognize them but I did see their face in my dream. And there was a woman as well, that woman was a maternal figure, I do not know who that was I think, at least now I don’t know maybe in my dream I did. Even though I did not recognize her, she was my maternal figure and everyone else's too I think, or at least I know for sure one of the men's maternal figure. I was on the bad closes to the window. The beds were made, there was no other person besides the ones I already mentioned but there was a fulfilled energy regarding the space (the house). It felt full. I don't remember how but there was someone with daytime about or willing to smoke, or maybe already smoking. I want to say it was a girl who I know, I want to say it was Alexa, or maybe someone else, but no one who I know smokes or has smoked clear. That woman was grabbing the daytime from a Ziplock bag, it was a good amount, and dropped a many, many pieces to the ground. Looking at them by themselves, they seemed small, but big or the right amount to put in a pipe. The size you would break a little for a good melt. I saw they were falling and went a picked them up, without her seeing me, or no one for that matter. It was a secret because in my dream I wasn’t smoking and wasn’t “allowed”, even in my dream I knew I shouldn’t and knew there were consequences if I did, like my mom seeing me or the high affecting my behavior for that day and they days to come. But I wanted to smoke really bad as soon as I saw it. So I started to pick them up and it wasn’t just a little bit, it was a lot. Probably about a gram of unknown sized pieces. I knew I shouldn’t do it but I started to become anxious, as in fiending for some, real bad. I grabbed them and felt like I scored. Imaging being a street tweaker and finding drugs and getting extremely euphoric, as in fulfilled, as in imaging completing your dreams, imaging attaining what you most desired. That is how I felt, everything disappeared and all there was in my reality was: I have meth and will get high and oh my God I cannot believe it. I think that is when the mother figure entered the room and I felt very desperate because I didn’t know where she would leave for me to be able to smoke in peace and enjoy it; I was very agitated. I felt some pieces sticking to my fingers, they were melting because I had them inside my fist so that they won’t be seen and I could have them in my possession. I think I told one of the guys about what I found and he had the same reaction as me. Then I looked at his face and it was overly swollen, like if someone with a bee allergy got stung in the face, the eyes were two horizontal lines, the whole face was puffy, but there was one thing on his mind: getting high; nothing mattered, he did not even mentioned what was happening or indicated that is something he could feel. The mother figure then transformed into, what I want to say was, the man’s mom. His mom was crying, was I sorrow. He was going to get high intravenously and she knew I might be his last time. She wanted to stop him and cried, begging him no to do it. But he was not there, his focus was on getting high. He was b=very unbothered about doing it in front of people or how other people could think about the whole situation. I don't remember seeing him get high. As a matter of fact, I don't remember anyone getting high. I got very sad about the situation. I was impatiently waiting for the mother figure, the “adult”, to leave so I can get high in peace, without being paranoid. I was speaking fast, trying to help finish anything that was happening so that the next “act” could start, hopefully and most likely it being that the adult would leave and I would stay alone in the room with a couple pieces. The men were in the living room of the house, I don't think I saw it but I knew.

I woke up, it was 4:47AM, knew I had to wake up at 5AM to get ready for work, which started at 7AM. But, I was very interested in the dream. I woke up fully aware of the whole dream. I had awareness and some type of consciousness but the decision were made by my dream self not my real self, although, my real self’s boundaries and “rules” (?, for a lack of a better word) were known and applied. I wanted to go back to sleep to be able to stay in that circumstance. Said “10 more minutes” or so, turned off my alarm to not wake my dad up, and went back to sleep. I fell asleep fast and began dreaming, picked it up where I left if, I think.

The emotions were real and accurate. I felt them before when I would run out and needed to score some more but would take time and after moving “sea and land” I would get ahold of some. In those situations I would be capable of going from Shoreline to Tacoma, any time, would wait for 3 hours, would lie to my mom in the most eye opening ways, would use my body to have some, would over pay, spend all my money, or steal because I didn't have any money, would forget about myself, I wouldn’t recognize myself. I felt like that again, I wasn’t able to get that emotion anymore, it really brought up a lot of forgotten emotions and sensations. I wanted to feel that again, I wanted to experience all that turmoil and enjoy it because I liked the feeling of chasing something with such a passion and determination.

So I went back to the dream and I don't remember much. I think I got high, or maybe I wasn't able to. I do remember being lectured about this. I think the mother figure became someone who wasn’t a member of my family so there wouldn’t be any actions against me or consequence for this behavior but there were concerned because they saw me young, with opportunities and knew clearly that I, and nobody, should do that drug. I was desperate because my plan wasn't happening and I already had that in my head and who was going to take that away from me, after being so close to achieve it. I think I let that figure know what was happening, that I had pieces in my possession, pieces of meth. I did that because I felt remorse but also because I felt caught and I thought if I feel “guilty” I wouldn’t be taken as a lost cause, generate pity or aversion to myself, but I would generate a sense of hope to others, hope that they could avoid it, that they could help me and I would be a victim instead of an addict. Someone who wants to change but “it is hard”, and how everyone thinks now is that addiction is a disease and it is not the addicts fault. Which in my case, it is my fault. I am not addicted, but I am still related to it.

It is like an abusive relationship, you say it is not OK and you are not in an active relationship with the person but think about them, take care of them either directly or not, you see them if they ask you to hang out, you know you shouldn't but at the same time you don't see what can go more wrong than what you’ve actually endured, and why stop if you maybe love that person or at lest desire them and it doesn’t hurt anyone or even you unless it does hurt you but you can avoid it, you can act in a way that can protect you and still happen. And if you tell someone new what went wrong, they will blame it on the other person, how mean, how toxic and abusive, what a bad person. And poor you, it is hard to get out of there, you get empathy and compassion, and most importantly understanding. I am not addicted but I feel forever tied. I feel like now that I tried it, there is no going back, I like how it feel and before that nothing felt like that, and after that nothing has felt similar either. I am not addicted but I am consciously seeking the opportunity to do it again. Ever. Single. Day. And I don't need it, but I feel complete with that. I feel happy, but I don't feel happiness. It is hard to explain. I feel fulfillment. I feel identified and accepted by my self. I can write without frustration because I feel stupid for trying to create something. I believe in myself and my potential. And I don’t have expectations, I do things because I want to and I like it. And I feel focused. I feel in control of my overall state, which it is lead by my emotional self. I feel one with my critical and emotional self. I think it silences or minimizes my critical self, but it doesn't reduce it, it puts it in it’s natural power and proportion.

So I felt all of that. It was very eye opening that dream. It gave me two “desires”. One, it reinforced, very deep down and unconsciously, the idea of trying to score some just to experience it again, to have all of these again, not for the last time, I am trying not to lie to myself nor judge my thoughts. And two, created or increased this mentality: “don't do it, it is something that you have outgrown. It is not relevant anymore with everything that you have in your mind and life”. Not really, but basically. I cannot put my thoughts in words. I wish I could give this text my feelings, it is a vibe that is worth 1 million words. I think it is this reason that blinds me from moving on. I am stuck, I do not engage in the past, at least not actively and freely, but I do not ascend or set my mind on focusing on my new endeavors. I think I cannot articulate these important happening in my mind and self, and I think that is the product of a separate self. I think I don’t like myself and I don't know myself because I don't want to, and because of that I don't understand myself, and because of that I don't know what is going on inside myself and I don't know the external and internal expression that come with me. And I blindly walk in this world, and I instinctively act on the internal expressions that are caused by a lack of touch and I become desperate to fix it or make it stop because it is scary, and that is why I act based on survival. I think that is why I need to do drugs, because I have a lot of self-discomfort that I don't understand and because I don't understand myself I don't know how to properly behave towards it and turn to what I know which is escape or distract myself, or I go to other people and manipulate them to make them fix me and my issues.

I wish I knew myself and I wish I could understand me. I wish I had interest in getting to know my self, and work cohesively and cooperatively, thus developing my persona and getting to who I want to be.

Because I know who I want to be but I don't know who I am now, and how would you work on something you don’t have access to or even know what it is.

Anyways, I had that dream and it stayed in my mind. It stayed in my mind in a. very passive way, but didn't leave. It created a sense of curiosity and excitement because I really like when I show or express that unconscious side, that secret side that has artistic factions, that side that gives me material which I can use to create the art that I really want to create. It takes me out of a very logical world and puts me in an introspective but controlled and realistic mental state and emotional position. I feel proud of myself. I wanted to put it into something. Not words because I knew I wasn't going to be able to fully encompass everything without going outside the topic or being vague or overly “performative”. I wanted to create a visual representation but how. I wanted to show it to people without any context because the circumstance was so well developed in a way that captivates the audience, tells a story and creates reflection and curiosity, cravings for more. But didn't know what, how or why. I thought about recording myself but that created a sense of anger mixed with frustration inside me. Like, just stop. Maybe live in the present? Maybe, stop putting expectations? Maybe, think more logically creative instead of just doing it without thinking but believing it will work but then not working because there was no planning or evaluation? So I didn't do anything with this dream.

That is why I forgot it. But what captivated me is what I told in this text.

What caught my memory was the face of that guy and the very of that mother. It made me really sad, it decreased my desire to get high, it made me rethink about my decisions and really question this need and want of being around drugs. It destroys people, not the ones getting high, but the ones around you. It makes you a stranger to everyone because it makes you misunderstood. It breaks your mom and your dad. It takes you away from those who love you, and it dissipates your role in their life forever. It changes everything forever.

I do not want to see my mom hurting. I cannot even understand or comprehend the love of a mother and I will never experience that sense of grief without loss. Knowing they are not gone but the version you knew is, but their presence is, their light and soul is; a big wall has been built and a dome was left englobing the wall and the person, leaving very far away. I think about a mom, a mom who doesn’t know judgement or anger, who doesn't know grudges, whom forgiveness comes as natural as hear beats.

Anywayssssss

Basically, I went to Lowes and started looking for tweaker to get meth from.

I went to a little alley with a dead end and saw a guy and a girl walking. I didn't mean to ask them but I couldn't finish my turn until they fully crossed the road. The guy saw me and I did a sign saying sorry for getting to close with my car, like not letting him cross. He thought I was talking to him and I said no with my gestures, so he kept walking. But I stopped, rolled my window down and said “Excuse me”, he didn't hear me. Then I rolled the passenger’s window down and said “Excuse me” twice. The girl heard me after the second time and they both stopped. I came out of the car half way, and said “Sorry to bother you and hopefully you don’t take this the wrong way, but do you know where I can find clear?” He said, “Clear?, Yeah” And walked towards my window. I got a little nervous because I thought he might steal my bag or tried to do something mean, but he didn't. He asked if he could enter the car and I, hesitantly, said yes. The girl also go in, the guy invited him in. She asked if it was OK, I said of course. He got in through the left door and she through the right one. He asked me how much I need and I said 20$ worth (I got 10$ cash back from my purchase at Lowe’s). Then he said, “Ok, let me go grab it”, and I became hesitant because I know there is the chance of him leaving with the money, I said, “Can't you get the drugs first?” He said something about needing the money to get the drugs, so I asked where he was going, he said a couple meters ahead, facing Aurora, facing the dead end with the back of the white Dodge, with Lowe’s to my right and a house or an abandoned establishment to my left. I drove him closer to the RV he was going to get the meth from. Important to describe, there are various RVs parked parallel to the left end (side) of Lowe’s and it is a little easy to assume that the people there consume drugs, or at least a good majority. I parked behind a black Sedan. I wasn't even parked, I just stopped but later turned my car off in case it looks suspicious, but I think that it wouldn't have mattered because everybody goes there to get ahold of drugs it seems like and I did not see any security or police, or even pedestrian activity. I think that if you go that way, you go for a reason. It is a little scary but not terrifying. People just look at you and stay looking.

I parked behind the car, the guy said to the girl “I’m leaving my backpack here”, walked to my window, leaned on it and asked me for the money. I changed my mind, I said “Actually let me just get 10$ worth”. He said OK but seemed kind of confused; 10$ worth is almost nothing, but it is still something though. I just thought, if I have a good amount, I will do it and I don’t know if I should or want to get high like that, at least in this occasion.

I gave him a 10 dollar bill, he looked at it kind of disappointed and left, walking straight in the direction of one of the RVs. I think he said he was getting it from a girl or girls. I stayed with the girl and I made a little conversation. I thanked her and apologize for bothering them or interrupting their walk- they were heading towards the dead end direction, a residential street behind the Lowe’s.

Is it Lowe’s or Loewe’s? I don't want to look it up.

She was very nice, very polite; most girls on drugs, at least caucasian girls, her type, tend to be mean, very rude, very distrusting and they let you know they don’t care about being cordial, even just for the time being just to have a pleasant time.

She was eating, what I think was, vanilla pudding with Oreos on top. At first I thought it was an ice cream, but it looked glossy to be ice cream. I asked her what her name was and I didn't understand what she said. I said “I am Lucia, nice to meet you”, she said “nice to meet you too”. We talked about clear, I asked her if she smokes it and she said yes. I was being careful about my questions regarding drugs because I don't want to label her as a druggie but I mean, we are in a drug deal so the topic of conversation tends to be about drugs. I wasn't interested in what I was asking but I wanted to avoid tension or awkwardness or making her feel unimportant, something like that.

She said “Thank you for being so respectful with your questions.” And I said “Of course, my biggest fears to make someone feel disrespected by accident”. Instantly I thought, why would you say that, stop trying to be so nice and approachable, just let it flow by being nice and chill. She said “Yes” or something like that, she wasn't interested in my response. I said so where were you guys going, or something like that, and she was very vague with her answer. I was thinking about offering them a ride but thankfully with her response I just moved on. We talked about a time that I go 7 grams of daytime for 60$, I told her it was at the beginning of the pandemic and it never happened again. She was very surprised and was like “Really?”, I said “Yes, and it never happened again”. I said “It wasn't even powder, it was full, unbroken crystals”. She asked if the quality was good, I said yes. She told me people have been cutting meth and coke or “blues” with “tranq,” she said “it is horse tranquilizer, have you heard of it?”. In my head I was, “Ketamine”, but I didn't want to seem like a know-it-all, so I said “Yes, I think so. That is crazy.” Then she said something about fentanyl and I said, “Yes, I had a friend who smoked a perc that had fentanyl and OD’d, overdosed and died.” She didn't respond I think just kind of showed that she heard me and agreed. She said something about percs or pills, as in if I consume them, I said “I am not into percs or pills”, “I smoked it once, just one hit and passed out, so what was the point”. When I said that I saw the guy walking towards us but stopped at a paper bag on the pavement, close to the sidewalk, and was cutting a piece. I though about driving towards him but I didn't because maybe I was going to intrude, maybe there was people therein it would be weird or I would disturb them and I wanted to avoid interacting with the people there because they are weird and I wouldn't be able to know how they will react. There was an old black man that looked at us, made eye contact and kind of turned his head away from us, like saying “what are you doing here” or like maybe he is just fried and people like that have antisocial queues and expressions or behaviors. The girl in the back of my car said “Don’t trust him, he is ...” I think she saids us or something around that thought but I thought to myself, “That didn't even cross my mind, to ask him fro anything or even interacting with him. I said “Oh ok, thank you”. I think she said her drugs are questionable, or something along those line, or maybe I am making that up. I think she said that and then mentioned the drugs being cut with ketamine and to be careful. There was a tall, lean, black guy with a blue durag and long hair (because there was a big bulge in the back of his head under the durag) that was walking towards the dead end, kind of passing through it into the residential street but came back, walked passed my car through the side walk, passed by the old black man and talked to him for a brief moment. Then went across the street, by where the abandoned-looking building was, and was walking towards a little gap between building, seems like he was looking for something on the floor. He kept low-key looking over us, but I never actually made eye contact with him or caught him staring at the car or anything. He was around probably around 70% of the whole time I was there. He was walking up and down, kind of wanting to do something but hesitant or shy about it. I thought maybe he was looking to score some. I was scared he was going to come over and talk to us because I wouldn’t know what to expect. I saw him walking passing by the grill restaurant across the Krispy Kreme, in front of the 76 gas station, and I thought “He wouldn’t be involved in drugs, wouldn’t know where or how to get clear or even know what it is” I thought he was a pedestrian and that thought I had was to kind of reinforce the idea that maybe the people who I think would know about meth actually don't and they are just people walking with a destination and I am here thinking about disturbing people and maybe offend them with my question. I saw him and kind of gave up on trying to score. Then, drove north and spontaneously turned left on the street I did the deal, where the RVs are, passed about 3 or 4 prostitutes that were in those street corners, and drove to where I meet Alfredo, the guy who got me the meth.

I think the guy left or maybe I just forgot about him. The guy with the blue durag.

Alfredo took quite a little bit of time with that paper bag on the floor, I thought “Maybe he is trying to put the drugs for me wrapped in that.”

I was ready to get my drugs and get out.

The girl in the back offered me the tablet, it wasn’t a known brand. I am not interested so I said “Not really, thank you”. Said it twice. Asked, can I see or what brand it is I think and she opened the box and let me check it out. I asked her how much do you want and she said “I don’t know, 10 or 20″. It seems like she just wanted some money. I would’ve said 50 or 65, I mean, it is a tablet. I don’t know if it works thought but seems in fair enough condition, not broken or anything like that.

I had 10 dollars left in my wallet and said, “I was thinking about giving you guys this for helping me to get some, would you like it?” I was shy because I didn’t want to offend her by giving her money, as in saying that she is in need or something. She was thankful, she said “Yes, thank you” I think she said thank you twice or maybe I appreciate it on the second time. I said “Yeah, of course. I don’t know if it is 9 or 10$” She said, “Oh it’s OK, thank you”.

I felt good because I didn't feel like I was using them and felt like we were good. I initially wanted to give that money to Alfredo because he made it happened but because she offered me the tablet and I wasn't interested, I offered it to her. I felt bad because I felt like I disappointed her or hurt her.

Her fingers were swollen, looked tender, as in hard, as in compact. They were thick, thicker than you would think based on her physique. They were red and the tips were sort of dirty, black like if you would’ve cleaned “coal”. The nails were short and they looked very swollen. Like when you are in drugs too deep, like a circulation type of situation. I looked at her fingers more than once. I always look at people’s fingers because that is my determination of whether they are deep or deep enough into drugs or not.

Alfredo came to the car, finally, and gave me the piece of folder paper bag. I opened it and it was so little. He gave me probably 5$ worth, if not a little less maybe. But I don't know the prices anymore (really, never truly new them. People definitely overcharged on various occasions but I wouldn’t know). I was like damn, he kind of felt my disappointment and he said “She gave me very little for 10$. If you want a have a guy that will do a ball for 35. A ball is 3.5. It is because they don't sell, that is why they give you so little.” I said “It’s OK,” took a piece of something off the bunch, it wasn’t meth it seems like a piece of wood, close the whole thing and put it in a little pocket on the inside of the driver’s seat door. He said “Give me your phone” for the deal that he told me about. I said “Yes please, I would like to get some. What is your number?” He said his phone is not working or he doesn't have a phone, something like that. He said you give me your phone so I can contact you. I said “OK, sure. Do you have a pen?” Or maybe I said, where do I write it. He asked the girl if she had a pencil with her. She started looking but I rapidly said “I have a pen”. Opened the glove compartment and took black-ink pen. The girl opened the box where the tablet is and told me to write it in there. I wrote my number and “Lucia” below it, worth it with an accent, half cursive half printed. I really like how smooth the pen felt on the inside of the box, that caught my attention. He said “OK, I will call you (or maybe he said text) tomorrow.” I said “Yes please” I know for sure I showed my interest on the deal or just on getting more meth and said I want him to contact me, I don't know if verbatim but at least the vibe.

We were speaking Spanish because when I met him I sensed an accent. I asked him, before I gave him the money “Do you speak Spanish?” He said “Si.” I said, “Ya, yo tambien.” And our whole conversation, except for the very beginning, was in Spanish. It made me feel more comfortable and safe.

I shook his hand and said thank you and nice to meet you I think. The girl left my car, I said bye to her. They walked away and I left. I didn’t put my seatbelt on until after I started driving. I just wanted to get out of there. I was scared of leaving because everybody outside would see me and know what was up. A very skinny, wrinkly old caucasian man with a guitar stared super hard at me when I passed by. I think he has a confederate themed cap, maybe (?). And I think I heard the prostitutes making a noise, like “Ohhh” because they could assume what happened. Saw my car going inside, and a bunch of minutes later, leaving. Both times by myself. What else could you be doing.

After all this, I got home, said hi to Roy, my mom, let them know I will be busy and won’t eat with them and locked myself in my room. Turned my TV on and loaded my pipe. I initially said I would do it tomorrow but I didn't want to wait. It was very easy to change my mind. I cancelled plans with my dad, told him that I was staying late at work and after had to do homework so I wasn't going to meet him but I will tomorrow that I don't work. He left me on seen. It hurt me to say that, but my desire to get high was way more powerful.

After processing it, I think as I was getting close to my house, I thought to myself: “He definitely took some of my meth and kept it and that is why he separated it using the paper bag” because, they would not have given him the drugs loose like that, they were small pieces and you can’t hand that over without a container holding it. I got a little frustrated, a little mad, a little mad I didn't think of it and say something, but what could I possibly say, he wouldn’t have admit to it, that is 1, and two they helped me so it makes sense he would’ve taken some. It makes sense, and it is kind of expected, for someone like him to do a move like that. At the end, you are surviving and you need your drugs to survive when you are in that state. The type of state where you are in the streets like that, when you know the people in the streets like that, and just the whole vibe and characteristics.

I couldn’t expect any less. It is whatever. I would’ve liked the whole thing, of course. The girl told me, “You should tell him to introduce you to them so you can get it from them next time.” I said something like “Oh yeah” and then commented that my plug moved to Tacoma and I would not go all the way there for some, that is why I am asking on the street like that. She agreed.

I should’ve gone with him but I just was very “frozen”. I didn't want to leave my car there or leave her in the car, and what if the people at the RV don't want strangers. And if I told him that, where would the girl be at. That is not important nor relevant but I just thought there was no other option besides the plan that Alfredo made.

I smoked it all. I smoked it probably in the span of 20 minutes. It got burned really easy and turned brown. I wonder if that is because of the quality or the pipe. Was it cut? I felt ringing my ear when I smoked it. I opened the window because the smell was strong, smell of burnt chemical maybe. Watch Shark Tales and kind of organized my room but not really, I was pretending to not catch Roy’s attention, who was setting up the table and grabbing stuff from the kitchen constantly.

I got high, but not as high as I thought it was. I don't know if it was the amount, or the quality or my tolerance. I would’ve thought that because I haven’t done it in a long time even the smallest hit would get to me but it didn’t like I thought I was going to be.

I am mildly high. I texted with my grandma, my dad, the MIRABUS group chat, Amanda Gane on Instagram, watch the videos that Giulia sent me on Instagram too. Then, I sat down, grabbed my laptop and opened Canvas to do some homework. There is nothing due but I wanted to read the syllabus of each class and get an idea of deadlines, how each class will flow or what they will be expecting from me.

I started doing that, I grabbed the notebook I got for each class and wrote the subject on the outer cover of each notebook. Then I grabbed the “Introduction to Communications” notebook and started writing the key points of the syllabus. While doing that, the thought of writing about today came to my mind and there was no thought that opposed that or that judged it so I opened Tumblr and started this text.

Today is the day relapse, after not doing this since August of 2022. That is almost 7 months. I kind of knew it was going to happened but didn't believe I would actually do it again. Just because of the consequences and effects on me, and because now I am more connected to the people around me and this sometimes shows on my behavior and I have a very faint and very underdeveloped agreement with myself about this, that I would not show myself in that state to my people anymore. My family because they would what is going one easily, they have been around when it was bad and I know that is something that is still prevalent in their image of me. And the new people, my coworkers, because I don't want them to experience that persona, it is not what I want to show, and I don't want to hurt or damage our relationships and their idea of me. This is a very professional, serious job, the real deal. I cannot, actually I can but I don't want to act out of matureness and make this known. It will definitely be the end if it gets known and even if that doesn’t happen, I respect and care for them enough to think it twice. I would definitely not do this often because of that reason and wouldn’t do it as I get close to a day that I have to attend work.

I don’t feel remorse or shame or guilt for doing this, it was a small amount and that was it. I would lie, I think, if I say I don't crave it now that I finished it. Like, maybe I don't crave it but I did go back to the usual which is, OK where is the other hit. It is like an anxious response, when I consume something that brings me comfort, that I like, there is no limit or end. The question is: “Where is more? Where can I get more?” But there is no desperation.

We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

I don’t know if the guy will get to me or if I will do this again. Although, now I know where I can potentially get it again and how easy it was or maybe not easy but how it plays out, generally speaking.

I don’t know what I will feel or what will happen, but I feel at peace and happy I did it because I wanted to and I want to give myself what I want, no right or wrong desire because there is no judgement in me against my thoughts and behaviors. I am trying to reconnect with myself and make it stronger, to have my back and know that.

I sent Meeche a text, he might not answer me. I am going to Tacoma for a training next Friday (April 14th) and I thought I could pick some up because I will be there. I don’t think he will get to me, he is not interested anymore. I don’t know if I broke the relationship we had but I definitely annoyed him at some point with my behavior, it wasn’t one that I would feel proud of.

I wanted to have a saved something of what happened today, for my own safe keeping, to maybe use it in the future for some project, to go back one day, read it and remember it. Because it is something that most people wouldn’t do and I feel like it might be something that some people could use to live an experience through it, using it.

I feel, not proud, but I feel like I would talk about it. I would’ve definitely told Renae if we were around, or Lexi if I had the type of trust and if she was the type of person one could tell her something like that. So I tell Tumblr, I tell myself and maybe someone will come across it.

I smoked meth and I liked it. Deal with it.

#therapy #journaling #reflecting #meth #clear #confused

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regaining-consciousmess · 2 years

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I just got invited to get dinner with someone.

I was thinking about how it would be, maybe he will kiss me. He seems interested in that way. Maybe, if he is that way, he will invite to his house --he lives alone-- and maybe something happens and I might let it.

And then you came to my mind. And I knew that he can do nothing for me to enjoy it because it is not with you.

I pictured the whole situation and saw myself just laying on the bed, with no expression in my face. Just waiting for the end. Fake a smile, fake a conversation, probably kiss him goodbye, say yes to do this again sometime knowing that I won’t answer his texts. And leave. And feel so empty inside, and wanting to text you but knowing that I don’t have anything to say. That if I text you I will just end up hurting myself, and I am so scared of going back to the place I was when you left me. And I want to go to your house, but you haven’t invited me in months. And what would we talk about, I just want to tell you how much you mean to me and how sorry I am for not telling you this when you were by my side.

You never got to hear how much I loved you, and I think it is love because I can't understand it. I think it is love because I’ve never been so scared in my life. You were completely capable of breaking me or building me stronger with just your eyes.

Your sparkling, green eyes.

When we locked eyes, the world stop for me. There was no time, it felt like 1 year and 1 second at the same time. It felt like life was paused, and it was just the two of us.

I hope it was the same for you.

I think you think I didn't want you, that I didn't like you, that I wasn't attracted, that I didn't have any good thought about you.

The reality was that, I didn't know how to hide my feelings. And I didn't know if you would accept them. And the thought of being rejected and possibly loosing you was really scary and it made me desperate.

I did everything I did, the way I did it, so I wouldn't loose you. And I lost you anyways.

I didn't know any better. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I want to tell you but it's too late and it’s been too long. I want to talk to you but you don't want to anymore.

I am so sorry, and I don't think I can forget about you.

I hope I do because I want to get to enjoy this life and build something and feel the way you made me feel again.

But I don't know if I can, or if I allow myself to have that.

I never loved someone so much and it was unconditional. I felt you, and sometimes twice as much. You were my everything, and it hurts me that you still are.

I can't even see our pictures together and not cry or just turn my phone off and distract myself. But I don't want to be distracted anymore, bro. But I just can't afford to break myself again trying to forget you and move on.

I never knew love was this painful, but I never allowed myself to love because I heard it would be like this. I wish I never opened my heart to you because I knew one way or the other you would break it.

I broke it myself because I push you away but that was because I didn't want you to go. It is easier to leave than being left. At least I won't have to deal with the unworthiness this way.

But now, I live with the regret and I don't know what is worse.

I just want to be happy and want you to be happy. But knowing that I never took the chance takes all that away, because I could have been happy with you. I could have made you happy. And I think I know how to. Sometimes I think I am the only one that knows you. And you definitely are the only one that knows me.

You taught me how to live, how to be myself, how to love myself. I hope I made an impact in your life too. I hope at least I was good for something and this time was not a waste.

I think I will love you forever, I can't forget you. I can't, even if I try. But I don't want to be unhappy my whole life.

Maybe you are the last person I love. I feel scared and hopeless. You were all I wanted. I could have fulfilled love with you but now we are strangers again.

Strangers that wonder about each other, or at least I hope you wonder about me. I fantasize that you do, that some nights when you are sitting on your couch you turn to the right and remember how we would watch TV and talk for hours, and I would make you laugh, and your smile would warm my heart, and I haven't seen such an honest smile. And I have it like a picture in my head. And I don't want to delete it but it hurts me Renae.

I wish I complimented you more, I wish I listened instead of talking and I asked you how you were more often. I wish I wasn't so scared of being hurt and was brave for once. Texted you twice in a row, not caring if you left me on seen or if you took hours to reply. I wish I had the knowledge I have now.

But that is just a wish. In reality, we don't talk, don't text, don't see each other, I think about you every single day though. There is not 1 day I haven't thought about you. Now, I see your name everywhere. I see your birthday, January 17th. I see your mom's name sometimes. I can't listen to some songs because they make my chest hurt. When I think about you I feel like I can't breathe and my chest hurts and I can feel my heart beating stronger and I think faster too. I don't know what it means but it scares me so I try to distract myself, sometimes I cry, sometimes I get mad, sometimes I get anxious and start cracking my neck, or fidget my finger or start singing out loud just to make this strange, strong feeling go away. I can't put a name to this, but you cause it.

Hopefully one day I can see you face and smile, and look back at our memories together and feel happy to at least have them. Hopefully, sometime soon.

But until now, I mourn the space you left when you left. I feel incomplete, I feel alone, and I feel nostalgic.

Now, I have to learn how to love myself and try to compensate your absence and your love.

I have never felt so loved as when you loved me. You made me the happiest girl in the world everytime I felt your love. I really felt it Renae and it was amazing. Thank you for giving me that gift, and thank you for showing me that I can be loved. I would have never imagined you would, now I know I am worth it. I really didn't think so before.

Sometimes I get mad at you, but that is not fair. I am responsible too.

I am sorry, and that is all I can say.

I can keep writing, talking, thinking about you until the day I die, but my mind gets mad at me because I have to keep living and I can't just lay on my bed, trying to sleep to see you in my dreams and at least there I get to spend more time with you.

But that is not real, that is a dream. And I wake up and I hate my life.

So now I don't dream to not see you and be ok with my life.

I want you so bad, but I accept the consequences of my actions.

Now, I say and act the way I want. I hope you weren't just a lesson and you will come back. I really hope it is a matter of bad timing. I really really do, but I need to be there for myself so it is what God wants for us. I hope He is rooting for us.

I love you. Loved you since the day I met you, will do until the day I die. But I don't want to live in a torture, so I will probably have to forget you and repress you at some point. I am sorry for that.

I would fight for us but I don't want to push you even further, at least now you text me back most times.

I am sorry and I love you, I am in love with you and I wish you the best forever. I hope someone makes you happy and that makes them happy, just like it did to me. I hope someone sees you for the person you are and I hope you see yourself as the amazing person you are inside, that is more beautiful than any other person I’ve met. You are as beautiful as the moon, even without a face.

I will always be here for you, sadly.

Lucia

#love #hurt #loving #unrequested #heartbroken #not over it #empty #late thoughts

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