The realization crept over me. My drugs are gone and my friends are few. How very insignificant we all are. Myself especially, I suppose.

He said I didn't deserve pleasure, in so many words. I refuse to agree with that. Everyone deserves pleasure, most especially those who are in such pain.

So now I am left to wonder where I will find relief. The day draws ever closer to my imminent withdrawal, and this one will be severe, of this much I am sure. This little stint has been, by far, the most consistent usage coupled with the most pure of substances.

I impose this upon myself. I could taper down, but this is something I need to get over with.

I feel like I will never make another friend. Those days are gone. I'm fortunate to have my family, I would die without them. I love them so fucking much. I still cannot help but feel sadness for the friends I will not make in the coming months and maybe years of my life. No one cares. I normally can amuse myself, but I must admit that is with the aid of narcotics.

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Galen about 14 years ago

We all have our opiates. Here's to family, making life meaningful!

relapse (joined about 14 years ago)

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

genres

non-fiction depressive ramblings

tags

drug use disillusion

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