I can't even read the post I wrote lastnight. I tried to before I left a comment to all the nice things everyone had to say. It makes me cry...wtf, I only cry when mad. That post makes me mad. Mad that I let such a vunerable part of myself be strewn across some voodoo screen.
Yesterday, I had just this feeling that I only have a few hundered days left to live. I was driving to the clinic in the morning sun. It was only 9am and I had to turn on the air full blast to cool off. I'm not made for tropical climates. Expessially when I'm on Methadone which makes me sweat more than roofer on a 120 degree day.
By the time I wake up in the morning, I NEED my morning dose. I already hear that voice in my head telling me I can't live without it. Yesterday was no diffrent, well maybe since I'm lowering my dose, the voice is getting louder, and more clear. I didn't even bother to change out of the clothes I slept in, didn't bother to brush my hair( I never do brush my hair). I just woke up, and got the keys to the car, and jumped in and drove to the clinic. On the way to the clinic, I was hitting all red lights. So I turned on the radio, and here they don't have very good radio stations. Its all Bob Marley, and Jimmy Buffet shit, I don't mind Bob, but every minute of every day hearing his music gets under my skin. So far this day isn't going too well. Not a single song I like. By the time I get to the clinic, I go to park my car, and I see the cars reflection and the reflection of me driving the car, in the window on the left side. I am startled by this reflection, because the car we have right now looks like the car my sister was driving the night she died in a car accident. I always swore to myself that I woudn't drive a blue car, but the rental place gave us this blue car, while our other car is in the garage getting a tune up. As soon as I saw the car a few days ago, I reminded my parents...no blue cars. They said they forgot. How the fuck do you forget that we don't drive blue cars after the accident, and resulting death of a daughter and sister?
I tried not to look at the reflection, but I couldn't look away. Now that my sister Angie is gone, I can see the resemblence in our faces. I look at our senior pictures, and you can see we have a few of the same features, even though when she was alive, I never noticed that we looked alike in the least bit. I couldn't take my eyes off the refelection, it was as if I was looking at my sister in her car on the way to her death. I'm sitting there and in my mind trying to look away, when the song Angie by the rolling stones comes on. When I hear this song it always makes tears my heart to peices. For that song to come on at that exact time was too much, and I sat there and listened to the whole song, and watched myself in this blue car, and what I was really seeing was my sister sitting her car looking at me crying.
The song ended, and I opened the door to the car and jumped out so fast you wouldn't belive it. I must have looked like a crazy person to bystanders. This fat girl crying in her car, while staring at herself for 4 minutes, and then jumping out of the car like it was on fire. After getting out of the car, I ran to the elevator, and it was taking too long so I ran my fat ass up the three flights of stairs, and walked very fast thru the hallway to the clinic.
I walk into the clinic, and everyone is on break, and then I notice this picture of one of my counclers at the clinic, and all these flowers surrounding it. Then I saw it...in golden lettering, in loving memory of Nacy. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, I just saw Nacy on Monday, today is Wendsay. I don't cry, I can't. I just have this lump in my throat, and now a throbbing headache. All I could think about was death. How I have to so many things to do before death stops knocking at my door, and walks in and takes me. I felt so overwhelmed by everything I have to get done. I have to leave so much more behind for who survives me in death. I've only just started what I have to do.
Break is overwith, and the room is full of patients. I had herd them talking about Nancy and her death, speculating about how it happened, but I didn't see them. Then I herd my name called out, and door buzz meaning its unlocked for me to go get my dose. I ask what happened, and all Kessa at the front desk knows, is that she died from Pnemonia. I asked what kind of Pnemonia, was she HIV+, or was it walking Pnemonia? I don't think she was HIV+, she was an RN, she was chunky, healthy. How could Pnemonia kill her in just over 48 hours. When I saw her on Monday she look as healthy as an ox, and now she is gone.
Kessa tells me to go to the doseing window, there are alot of people behind me. So I go over and get my doses. Then I think about this Swine Flu, what if the goverment isen't telling us everything. Keeping us from panicing. Perhaps it is more deadly than they say. Maybe its a media black out, and the goverment is feeding us inaccurate info. All these thoughts roll through my head, as I walk slowly down the hall way to the elevator. I decide I'm being parnoid. For all I know she could have been HIV+, I never asked her, and she wasen't obligated to tell anyone. Although if she were alive, I know if we asked she would tell us. She was always very open and honest about her life, and what she thought about our lives. She was funny too. Maybe she knew she was sick, and her Viral load was high, and her CD4 count was low, but she didn't want to...speculation. I stop myself, and get in the car, and keep my eyes on my hands so I don't see my reflection.
On my drive home, I hit all green lights, and The Doors, light my fire plays on the radio. I like the doors, and this song is long, so I might be able to handle everything going on in my head. Waiting for the methadone to kick in.
I get home, and take only one Xanax, trying to conserve. I read my book almost all day. I'm getting to the end, and its one of those endings where the son is clean, and working the steps, after his thrid relapse, he feels his son is on the track, taking it one day at a time. This pisses me off, so I stop reading, and try to sleep. Normally the Methadone makes me sleep, but not now. I'm getting low on my dose. Still high to most people 87, but I was at 130 and comfortable. Its like they are taking my safty net away, and making walk a tight rope.
By 9pm I am overwhelmed and I write lastnights post. I take another Xanax, and some herbal sleeping pill. We are out of over the counter sleep aids. I have a hard time sleeping. I want to take my take home dose now, but I konw it will just make today hell, and the next day even worse.
I go into my room, and fall asleep, and wake up to some movie my dad is watching that is too loud, and the apartment trashed.
Now here I am, and I'm done posting for today.
All my love to everyone