fucking stupid? Today I said fuck my methadone. I'm not going to take it. Things went well up until around NOW.
Now I feel like an emotional pin cushion. Everything I have been numbing for the past 5 years is rising to the surface. I again begin to think about Kurt Cobain, and suicide. I start to think about my book, and how fucking shitty I am at writing. I start to think about my life. I stand outside and am in a daze. My dog has to go potty, so I walk her. Just from walking two steps I begin to sweat, and my nose starts to run, and my eyes water. I feel the sickness comming on, but could it be in my mind. Methadone is suppose to have a half life of up to 48 hours. Heroin's half life is only I believe 8 hours at most. Which means with H you get dope sick a lot fast, and harsher, but it gets over with alot faster and nicer. With the methadone, your dope sick for up to but not limited to a full fucking month. But.....its not the dope sickness I'm most afraid of. Its the mind fucking I'm most afraid of.
In your mind you littelly cannot think about anything else except opiates. No matter what, I've tried smashing my hand in a door, to take away thoughts. As soon as that inital pain of the slam went away I was right back to thinking about how I could get high. Panic attacks ensue, and maddness is all you know. If you do fall asleep, the only think your mind will let you think about is opiates. I remember one of my dreams.
I was up in my bed room, and I had a bunch of 8mg dilauded pills, I'm talking I had a garbage bag full of them, but for whatever reason I couldn't open the garbage bag full of the pills and use them, and then the bag got a hole in it, and the pills started falling out. Where ever a pill fell I herd a sound of music. Like a piano sound, and I was trying to remember where all these pills where droping by the sound they made when they dropped so when I was able to use them I'd be able to find them. When I woke up I was shivering and covered in sweat in a jail cell. Thats also where I feel asleep at. So there was no way I was getting high. NO matter what, and there was nothing I could do to stop the thoughts. so I decided to kill myself, but to no avail. The only thing I got was the jail nurse to write me out a script for Libruim. Mamas little helper. They only helped a little, but that little kept me from doing the deed. Suicide.