Category: Uncategorized

Looking at my posts from the weekend, it occured to me that there are a lot of people that probably think I’m insane. Not in the stupid AA “definition” of insane (repeating the same mistakes twice), but I mean the actual definition of insane: inflicted with a persistent mental disorder or derangement. The thing is about mental disorders as far as I can tell is that there is no way for one who is inflicted with such a disorder to know what a proper mental order is, or what sanity is. So, I am lost.

I have met few people who can understand my condition who do not associate themselves with the disease model of addiction and alcoholism.

I think it’s absolutely absurd that I am an alcoholic. I mean, I am not at the point of doubting it. I still see it as a fact about myself. But when I write it out, or say it outloud to another person who is not an alcoholic, like someone from my past, or a border cop, or someone else’s parents, I feel evil. I feel defective. I feel like the stereotypical drunk redneck with a shotgun and overalls who beats his son and molests his daughter. I’m pretty okay with associating myself as a drug addict. I know that when I put any drug in my body I have a profound reaction to it and I really like the feeling it produces. I like it so much that with ensured resources I have and would pursue staying high.

As for being an alcoholic. I go with the association because I have chosen to see alcohol and meth as identical in the addiction one can have to each. From the way I’ve heard alcoholics talk about their drinking, I used the same way they drank and felt similar despair in the darkness of my using as they did in their drinking.

Alcohol was never really a particular obsession of mine. I hated it’s effect for the most part. I was never a good drinker. I puked everytime, and could never control the speed at which I drank. I drank beer and liqour like water, so I would get drunk too fast and totally bypass the cusp at which the delicate effect of booze is most appealing. Meth was more attractive to me.

I think if there was no drugs in my situation when I got in to them I would have learned to drink and really become addicted to the effect of alcohol. However, that was not the case.

What caused me to make the decision to stop was where I found myself after several years of daily using with brief intervals of sobriety. After each interval of sobriety I went back to using just as I had before. I do believe it was progressive, that the end result was always worse as time went on. So, my decision to stop. My decision to stop was made at a point when I had been smoking meth all day everyday for about two months. I had gone over a year using meth everyday when I was first introduced to it, but, as I mentioned, this condition of using was progressive, so I reached the same point in less time as time went on. The ‘point’ was, in a word, despair. The dope wasn’t giving me the effect I required to feel okay. My mind and body had adapted to the influx of chemicals and built up a tolerance. I felt outcast from society. I felt alone, on the outside of my life, watching a junkie kill himself slowly. I had only the people I was using with, my girlfriend at the time, and my dealer. I was in school, studying web design and could not manage my time to complete assigments and exams. Drugs were my only priority. My day was overtaken by an obsessively concious attention to satisfying my need for more dope to satisfy the craving. The craving, maybe I should describe as best as I can in hindsight. I felt comfortable whenever I had dope on my immediate person. If it was at home, I was okay with the fact that I had a stash, but could never commit to anything that would impede my ability to fill a bowl and smoke myself back up. When I was amped on dope I was totally self-consumed. Anything extraneous to myself didn’t matter. I was like a giant that could only see his own self and was unaware of the villages and people below him. My plans, my priorities became the only thing important and I was consumed by the present moment. The past, the future were not relevant in the slightest. Sometimes, if I my body became tired, which usually only happened after atleast 30 hours without sleep, I could sit still on a couch, my pipe close by,and remain still unaware of time or space or thoughts or anything else. Just stoned. Music and tv were particularly interesting in these times. The craving was always based in my mind, not my body. My body always felt ready to go, and was hard to slow down, even after several days awake. My mind was what demanded more dope. The more dope I took in, the longer I went without sleep, food, or blinking. The longer I went without satisfying these basic needs the worse I felt, which required more dope. My mind would be affected greatly from the lack of sleep and food which felt like my brain was mush by the end of day two. I would sit at home and smoke more and more dope until my mouth was dry and tasted like chemicals trying to reactivate my brain to make some sense of my situation, to try to find some motivation to do anything other than sitting around trying to get high. When this became monotonous, I could see the futility of my efforts. As the dope lost it’s effect, reality would come crashing in and I would get intense observations of the devesation I was causing in my own life and the lives of those who loved me. Depression would set in as a heavy undertone to everything. The world seemed rainy and black. This was a place without sleep and without the ability to sleep to make it go away and the inability to put the pipe down to make sleep possible. Eventually I would pass out and wake up at a time unpredictable to me. If I had dope, I would immediately get high again to start my self up and start my day. If I didn’t have dope, the question would arrise as to whether to get more. This was a very difficult decision to resist giving in to. The prospect of life without dope at this time of total dysfunction and morning grogginess was grim. Even if I could wait out the compulsion to get more for a few hours or even a few days, life soon seemed dull and boring without the chaos and raw energy of another blast.

That’s the craving and scenario as best as I can describe it.

My problem with dealing with life lies in this…
Drugs are really an attraction to me. I liked their effects. At least, it seems to my sober mind that I like their effects. My problem is trying to stay sober. Getting sober was a decision I made and had made many times before that. Staying sober is the hard part for me. Reason doesn’t work on it sometimes. Sometimes, all the reasons in the world can’t stop the overpowering desire to get high. I fear that desire. I fear it because it means loss of so much to me that I’ve built up again this last 7 months sober. But even fear doesn’t work. Sometimes fear will do the opposite and drive me towards dope even stronger. So this is my problem: Complete lack of control over when I will use again. That is my problem.

I choose AA cause NA sucks. I’ve been to Narcotics Anonymous meeting and they give me the creeps. They are not attractive to me. I do not like the people that go to NA meetings and do not hear a reasonable solution to my problem. The AA people look nicer, cleaner. I have friends in AA. Not all my Alcoholics Anonymous people were predominantly alcohol drinkers. My closest friends in AA happen to be mostly junkies, crack addicts and meth addicts but there are a couple who could drink most under the table. AA had become routine, and going to meetings is mostly for me an action that reminds me I have the potential to use again any day and that I have no power over if and when that will happen.

my pet names from various people:

nuggers, knock, nickaurus, nicky, gnack, nokin, chicken

I felt like more of a person, like I had more substance when I was making art. I know I’ll always have an artistic mind, but like faith, art without action is dead. I’m still known by a lot of peeps only as “nokin”. When they call me that I know I’ve left somewhat of a legacy, but I feel dead inside cause I’m not producing anything. Making public art was good for me cause it gave me a feeling of accomplishment, worth and the feeling that people could see a part of my insides and tell me they liked what they saw.

I hate myself for not making art.

Self-loathing is so boring to me. But when I’m in it it’s so all consuming, i feel the need to embrace it to acknoledge it and hopefully take the power out of it. But then again, that attitude is so self-righteous and healthy it pisses me off. Fuck everything. Sorry this blog isn’t brightening up your fucking day.

It’s the Saturday night before Halloween. Halloween is on Monday. I just got home from a party/dance for sober peeps at the Cambrian Hall on 17th and Main. After my first Red-Bull-Something and a double espresso I was so amped. I was stoked to see JR, Anna and Leah. We danced it up like we were on E, but we weren’t, so it was better. The thing is with me and these kind of nights is that I innevitably end up in this situation that I am sitting in right now. The party gets old and I feel the need to change my atmosphere. I want to hang out with my friends but they always have other plans. Plans which usually don’t include me. Then comes this rush of self-pity and self-loathing. I immediately fall in to a depression. It’s a similar effect to when I used to be high and party. There was always the Big Come Down. And that’s exactly how I feel now.

When all the drugs are gone, or when they just stop working, when all the seratonin is flushed I’m left in a pathetic puddle of IHateMyselfAndIHateThisMoment. After the laughter then comes the tears, I guess.

I walked in my door and dropped my bag of fireworks by my microwave. Dragged myself to the washroom to take a leak and looked in the mirror and my sad expression. I am wearing a white headband as worn by Richie in The Royal Tannenbaums. I looked at my old sink, the same sink he slit his wrists in to in my favorite scene from any film. The thought went through my head that I could cut myself right there and I would feel better. That I wouldn’t feel alone. I think that’s what always motivated me to do it. I always felt the loneliness.

It tends to be some pretty inopportune timing that when I feel like this Jr and Leah are extra mushy with each other, and tell me how they want to go fuck, details about their sex life, and how much they love each other. What goes through my head is how badly I want someone to be that with, which is an obvious exposition of my motives for being in a relationship with someone. I feel attention hungry and I hate myself for it.

So I guess this post is trying to make myself feel better. To try to do something productive for me, cause other people just aren’t doing it right now. I feel so weak, so unable to be enough for myself. I see really attractive girls and I think I shoudl go talk to them. But I realize the grossness of my motives so it holds me back. Why would they want this. Why would they want what I have. They don’t want it.

Self loathing, go fucking kill yourself. Ironic that I am wearing an orange bracelet that reads “SUICIDE PREVENTION AND AWARENESS 1-800-SUICIDE”.

Ben and Jesse are a great couple. They inspire me. I wish I had a girl like Jesse.

whatever.

Okay Jeff, this was my pick for the day from some chick on Lavalife’s “let’s fuck” section of dating…

Love to kiss alot, frenchkissing is my favorite..YOU MUST KISS .then lots of passionate touches, cuddling and snuggling for hours. Enjoy lots of body contacts such as long erotic massages. Love receiving oral especially on my behind and giving massages. You must have a clean and showered body (best with cologne) if possible before we meet. I am into cleanliness very very much. I live in Kits fairview. I am self-employed and have a degree so I am into mutual clean and safe fun only. I like FIT men younger under 30 with strong arms, hairy chest and a beard/goat-T. Sorry, only give oral to clean and non smelly tools but love receiving unlimited oral attention to my behind from hot FIT men without bellies. I love seducing men in firehallbranch library west 10/granv. I love receiving oral, giving oral to nice big tools and massages alot . Message me if u r interested. But your face picture and a cel phone number are needed to meet me in person for security purposes. U must enjoy
cuddling, snuggling and kissing. U must treat me like a girl in bed. message me if interested

This is an Interesting article…

I think the US is going to attack Iran. Or Syria. Or both.