I havent updated this thing since October…that is sad but I mostly use Facebook and tumblr now to post things. But this diary is the only place where I can speak on a personal level; no one I know knows I have this. This is… just for me.
Since my last post, a lot has changed, though in many ways some things are still the same. We moved- to Florida just as discussed months ago in my last post. It was WOW at first, amazing and incredible and I couldn’t believe this was my life! Then Paul and I got into the worst fight of our 6 or 7 year relationship, which sucked, and also somehow impacted our social life with our older friends indefinately, or at least our fight was the catalyst to the changes in our friendships here. We’ve moved on from that phase and our relationship is stronger than it has ever ever been; we are truly best friends and closer than I would have imagined being with my husband– only in my dreams. Not that its all GOOD, but at least we’re together through anything.
We thought we might have a clean and healthy life here and drugs would certainly be out of the picture since we live on an ISLAND for petes sake, but that hasnt been the case either. Something here wasn’t doing something enough for us after a month or so (work, social life, home, personal, etc) and we started to seek out that ellusive HIGH. Sometimes, for me, it was to forget or to escape, or it was to relax and enjoy…maybe mostly to relax and forget.
I’m going to be real honest here. I wouldn’t tell ANYONE else any of these things. Maybe its best if I get it out there, just so i dont feel like I have any lingering secrets.
For several weeks straight we snorted oxys every day. Not always a lot–like if I worked all day (10-10) and had to work early the next day, I would come home and only snort like 1 pill, maybe have a couple of drinks, and go to bed. On days when we were off or if I didnt have an early start-time the next day, I would snort 2 or 3 pills throughout the day and get shitfaced at some point as well. We’d run around fort myers completely fucked up…I threw up all over the damn county this one strange day…sometimes it just hits me wrong, like if im overly tired or too hungry or sick in general, then i can’t keep anything down….so one day off work we were in ft myers beach, or heading there, and i threw up in the drive thru ATM at the bank, on the side of I-75 multiple times, at PF changs restaurant…pretty much everywhere we went. I couldnt drink water without throwing it up. But I was still high and it was still fun. Throwing up like that is just inconvienant. But those days also scared me a little too, thinking of what I was doing to my physical body. Kicking the oxys sucked bad for me this last time. It never really did in WV when we were on methadomes, so I felt invincible going into the withdrawl process. I told myself "1 day of feeling like shit, and I’ll wake up feeling great." That wasn’t how it happened. I think it has been a whole week now that I’ve felt like my body hates me. A week of really feeling like I’m kicking, mentally and physically.
So I felt like shit Saturday night, squirmy and light headed and gross in general, but our place was staying open until 2AM and it was a big scene so a bunch of us went together. It was a great group of people and i was having a ton of fun. Then we ran into our friend who said he had a bunch of cocaine……..hes over 40 years old and he really wanted us to do it with him because he just wanted people to hang out with. It was free.
So paul and i and our friend dave did a ton of coke that night, more coke than i would have normally done even back when we lived in NY and did coke every weekend. I didnt hardly drink after that, at all. I was really high and the guy kept getting us to do more with him. We brought home a doggie bag for our upcoming trip to miami, and went to bed. Or tried to anyway. I didnt sleep all night. I went into work at 10am and it was a weird day–tropical storm, lots of electrical probs, etc. and thankfully my bud Nate let me leave work early. I felt like SHIHIIIIIIITTTTTT. I went home and took a nap, and packed for our trip to miami. We didnt do anything that night except relax, recover, and pack.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like total ass still. Like completely fucking shitty. In the car on the way to miami and barely spoke and felt like i could puke at any moment. I felt a little better after eating, but i felt that general "coming down off drugs" worthlessness. So what do we do? Check into our hotel room on the strip in south beach and get some heroin. Not oxys or pills, but powder heroin in little crack baggies with the familiar dollar signs on them. I felt like shit, Paul and I both knew it would make me feel better, so i stuck my rolled up bill in the bag and snorted it. That sure blew my wig back! We were high as fuck driving through miami on our way to dinner at the fucking fountainbleu hotel where the celebritys hang at, and my husband high fives me, "here’s to doing real heroin for your first time babe!". I was into it, but shit! I felt great at that point, but gradually after TOO MUCH WINE at Gotham Steak and way too much food I started falling apart. We picked up our bff joe and went back to our hotel room to do the coke that he scored and the little doggie bag we had left over from Saturday night. I did it, but it was worthless. I threw up right away, which made me feel a little better, but i wasn’t high from it. It did make me feel good enough to walk several blocks to the bar we wanted to hang out at though. Paul ordered me a beer which i took litterally one sip from. I couldnt speak, i felt like fucking shit. All I wanted to do was throw up, but I couldn’t. I wanted to go to bed. I though, maybe another toot of coke will perk me up? I tried that, and nothing. I don’t know if i even got any in my nose because I couldnt see straight really. I think I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror then, but I don’t remember seeing anything.
Dinner at Gotham Steak
After the bar the 2 of them went to get something to eat and I went back to the hotel room to go to sleep at 4am. Good choice on my part. I slept like a rock. Joe and Paul ate at a 24 hour deli and Paul blew some more heroin in the bathroom. I woke up with the 2 of them in the morning and felt like fucking shit. How do the boys feel fine and I just can’t hang!? I felt like death as we cleaned up or hotel room and packed the car. Before leaving, we took our remaining stash of heroin and coke (yes, both. jesus.) and flushed it down the toilet. Paul waved it in my face, "do you want this??" and all I could do was moan, "NO". I was suprised in us, suprised we could dump it like that. Not suprised maybe…i felt totally withdrawn from it. I wanted nothing to do with it. While I did my makeup in the mirror and paul hovered over the toilet dumping the stuff, I felt like the real me was floating over us and my physical body was just a worthless lump of dirt, hollow and devoid of any meaning or energy. I didn’t have anything in me with the power to reach my hand out and stop him, like i
normally would have done. I thought for one split second that maybe there would come a time when we would wish we had some, and if we saved it we might feel better soon and want to use it. But again, I didnt have the energy to stop him.
I felt like shit the entire day while Paul and I explored Miami before going home. Its not that I regret trying things, or having these adventures with my amazing husband…its not that anyone else puts me up to ANYTHING that I do…i make my own choices and I lie in my own mistakes. And I’m not saying I regret any of my choices now. Paul and I looked at that picture from dinner and both laughed, "we are higher than shit in this picture! hahaha!" But in the morning we still got up and dumped the dope. Because I think we’re both sick, and tired, and I just know there is a better life out there for me. We’re not drug adicts- we both have great jobs, on salary as managers, lots of responsibility and great careers ahead of us. No one we work with would EVER EVER EVER think that we would do drugs. Well, maybe Paul cuz he has visable tattoos 😉 But even my best friend in the whole world, Emily, who i talk to less than once a month now, would ever think I’d do any of these drugs. I’ve smoked crack in detroit and in our hometown even! Crazy. Again, I dont regret it! Its just that….i feel so sick. Its catching up with me. And I’m a little worried that staying on track wont be easy. Its never been easy, though we’ve never given it our 100% effort because we never wanted to. I dont know that we’re going to do that now either. I’m just talking. I’m just saying I feel sick and like hell and mentally under the weather too…mentally distraught….i have no energy and no motivation, I’d like to drop out of the game and just quit now, but i know i would be disapointed with myself in the end.
In the mouth of jaws! Where I will stay if I don’t get my act together!
But I’m not sure I know how. I’ll figure it out my own way I guess. And at least I’m not going through it alone.