To Be Young is To Be Sad is To Be High

I've spent the week off of my anti-depressant (Effexor) because of an error at the mail away pharmacy my family uses. This is not okay. Effexor withdrawal is horrible, it makes me feel as if I'm in a dream where my body struggles to move or speak while I feel electric shocks running up from different limbs up through my face. Of course, it comes with the usual withdrawal effects, nausea, headaches, bad moods, a bit of craziness, etc. Overall, the worst part is that experiencing all of these things at once makes it extremely difficult for me function. I was finally able to get a version of my medication (IR instead of my regular XR) and I'm feeling so much better. Honestly, being off those meds really scares me because I become very disconnected from my rational inner monologue, and will frequently become self destructive (punching myself, cutting, strangling, etc.). I shouldn't be allowed to be around people at these times because I am too much for anyone to handle.

Today is good though. Last night, I couldn't go see the Sonics with R and our friend Lexy. It doesn't matter because R got kicked out before they were even on. He went out the wrong door to give me a call and see how I was feeling (I skipped out because I had taken my first dose back on my meds and felt very very ill), and the bouncer told him that he couldn't go back in now. R was so stunned that he didn't even say anything back, assuming he was kidding. Even his friend who was running it was unable to help. Lexy is cool because we are both on the same wavelength with chemicals at the moment. She has brought up PST and kratom without me saying anything about them, which is pretty awesome. I'm glad to have a buddy who is trying out the same stuff as I am. She might be getting some opium hash, which I'm VERY excited to try. That would be some magical stuff. Now, R and I are just chilling, as he plays games and I write. His addy prescription came in today, which we took with some tea. I even took my muscle relaxer to help me with the back pain I was experiencing from sleeping so long. My body feels great and balance and beautiful. Saturday is good. Drugs are good. Friends are good. I am good.

But am I?

That was what I discussed with my therapist the other day. You see, as much as I seem fairly brazen about my drug usage and what not, it's not without a lot of guilt and shame that I hold on to internally. It's the ammo I use against myself when people compliment me or if things are going well. "It doesn't matter, cause you're a piece of shit. YOU DO DRUGS. YOU'RE BAD. You might as well have been aborted. You're nothing but broken. You'll always be a junky. You can't even fucking change yourself, how can you do anything else? etc. etc." It's a sick monologue that I can't seem to [intermission for R and I to smoke on 4:20pm] quiet or change. I know that I need to, and that I'm not a bad person simply because I use drugs. My drug use stems from a lot of different things, and was started because of the loss of my grandfather and then being molested by a boy my age. However, I never realized that those two events played a significant role in my first decision to try drugs, but now it seems as clear as ice. It's a big reason I'm going to therapy. I know that there are a lot of past events that I've held on to and allowed to run wild across my mind, which has led me to this point.

That's not to say that it's not my fault that I have a problem with drugs. Every time I take a sip, drag, sniff, poke, it is a decision that solely control [pretty sure my mind isn't controlled by aliens or a computer, but who knows] .  In some ways, I feel very lost when I am only socially doing drugs. My life feels without excitement, or pleasure, or luster because there is no meaningful secret I am ruminating on. I love getting high as well, don't get me wrong. It takes me beyond "wicked" gravity, and lets me flow and dream where I could have never reached. Every molecule of my body feels the music, they are all at a rave and I'm the DJ. I guess it's part of how I identify myself as well. It is the part of me that rebels, sneaks, lusts, enjoys, and runs amok to bring everyone else around to the same level. The good part of my identity looks down on all of thus, and craves for me to straighten myself out. I realized that this is my real inner struggle as I kept talking in therapy. Without a struggle, what goal should my life be pointing towards? I'm not sure, and maybe that's why I cling to drugs. I am terrified of being alone with myself, without the occasional exit into glorious, radiant pleasure.

Gosh, all of this drug talk makes me want to do more, so I'm off until later.

Please comment if you read this, I'd love to hear from anyone who has been reading my blog. And I know people are randomly clicking on this, so please show me some...of yourself?

Thanks and have a lovely weekend!
- Lucy