09.10.03 I awoke from a Xanax induced coma at about 1am with the same screaming headache that I went to sleep with at 9pm. I cried and cursed. I kept BF up with me while I rummaged through old pill bottles looking for something stronger than the usual recreational pain pill. Then I remembered that "special one" that I have been saving for an occasion just like this one. Massive pain calls for heavy-duty pain medication. And so BF wrapped a scarf tightly around my forehead, over my right eye and I felt myself drift back off into a dreamy sleep. I somewhat apologized to Bo this morning for the thing yesterday. He came over to catch a ride to school, and I explained my harsh attitude the best that I could. (If you call that apologizing) I chugged my coffee as I told him about my lack of sleep, my headaches, my therapy, etc. He gave me a hug - turns out, he won't be going to jail or rehab after all. This time he got off with 9 months probation and an equal amount of drug court. (Drug court is where you go and piss in a cup twice a week.) He got lucky, or rather; his parent's money got him lucky with a good lawyer. It's funny how far MONEY will get you. Just funny. And I am sure that his mother drove home in her BMW, positive that this would be the 'last time'.... again. --------- Last night, Lydia guided me through a meditation as part of my therapy. I am supposed to pay attention to my posture, my breathing, and my body in general. It's sort of like a homework assignment for this next week. I like that. I think this is going to be a really positive thing for me, and it's been a long time coming. I can't believe all the years that I have spent going from psychiatrist to psychotherapist to counselors to physicians - all with the same result. A bottle of anti-depressants and a bunch of bullshit. But she is different, better. And maybe it�s not even her, but instead it�s me that is different now. I am different than I used to be in that other life. "Thank you, O Lord, for the white blind light, a city rises from the sea, I had a splitting headache, from which the future is made" - J. Morrison I told her about my headaches and my stomach pain. About everything. She said that I am angry. And I know this! ANGER is red, or so I've heard. Why do I get so mad? More often lately... and worse. I never have (had) thoughts of suicide, more like I just want to jump out of my skin and escape. More like I just want that part of myself to die � the part that hates. Drugs are like a temporary suicide. I tried to talk to BF about this, he only looked at me blankly. You always take the chance. You always leap blindly into comfort. Anyone who has ever felt enough pain, enough anger, enough of any emotion can identify with the mind of a junkie. Anyone who has ever felt like me. |
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