This is my own fault, and I know it, even if I don’t know much right now. I
can’t even tell you everything I’m on at the moment, though I can make a few
guesses. I suppose you wanna know how it is I ended up at this point in my
life, huh? Well, I was taking opioids before taking opioids was cool. The
pharmaceutical companies didn’t get me hooked, and I’m not a victim. I knew
what I was getting into when I took my first hit. I just kind of thought I
was better than that, and would be able to quit if I wanted. Maybe I
am one of those people. Maybe I’ve just never truly wanted to quit.
Or maybe that’s just an excuse I make to myself to make myself feel better
for being too weak to make my life healthy and drug free. A lot of people
seem to find their poison and stick to it. One guy likes bourbon, another
prefers cigarettes. I don’t really care how they taste, and as far as I’m
concerned, they all get you messed up, so what difference does it make? I
drink, I smoke, I shoot, I snort. I swallow, I ingest, I place on my tongue,
and I rub on my skin. I do it all, which I think used to be a point of pride
for me. I’ve never really gotten addicted to one thing. I would say it’s
more that I’m addicted to being addicted. I imagine a part of me thinks that
no drug can take over my life if I stop using it for a while to focus on
other things. But those other things are just as bad, so the result is the
same. Again, the taste doesn’t matter if I’m effed up all the time. My real
problem is a lack of consequences. Being constantly high meant that I didn’t
care how it affected the people I loved. I loved drugs more than any of
them, so losing one loved one never felt like such a great loss. Way I saw
it, I was always just trading one friend for another.
Money has been absolutely no issue. I unlocked my trust fund when I became
an adult, and before my parents could cut me off, they were dead, and no
longer had any say in the matter. So I just kept going, because no one could
stop me, nor even tried for long. Perhaps they thought I would give up and
crawl back to them with my tail between my legs. They overestimated their
own value to me, and my own ability to recognize how much better things
could actually be if I knew what true happiness was. In the end, I’m sure
it’s for the best. Anyone who tried to hold onto some kind of relationship
with me would have been dragged down into the depths of hell. I say that
like it was something a mysterious unseen force would do to them. It would
have been me. I would have dragged them down, and I’m glad they
didn’t let me do that to them. So I’m like the only sacrifice. Except this
sacrifice didn’t need to happen either. No, I’m not making any sense, but
what do you expect from a guy like me? Did you think I would be coherent? I
forgot how to do that years ago, and I don’t really care. I don’t care about
anything anymore. I wish I could tell you that I wasted my potential, and
had a lot going for me, but it would be a lie. My parents didn’t worry about
my grades, and I was filled with so little promise that mother didn’t even
want me to go into the family business. They just let me coast through life,
and this is where I am today. Again, I’m not blaming anyone but myself. I
had some pretty great teachers who came this close to steering me down the
right path. The reality is that I’m a loser, and I was pretty much always
destined to be as much. As I’m sitting here on this dirty couch, I
contemplate what to do next. I realize that I could probably call for help
before this overdose kills me, but what would be the point? I’ll always just
be that guy you used to know who’s always all messed up.
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