Ambitious and feeling a purpose- it just influenced me to feel that way and it was my solace, false or not. Now today is the first day I’ve really struggled with extreme cravings and it’s because I miss that feeling of purpose. I remember a day I was just walking around, getting Cyrano breakfast to wake up to and wasting money on lottery scratch tickets. In the brink of not really doing anything, I felt as if I were doing everything and finally getting somewhere. Then the high wore off and I started aimlessly walking around Lynnhaven Parkway, searching for something to fill the void but nothing seemed to suffice. Comedowns- the feeling of not feeling…anything. I have surpassed that point, achieved weeks of sobriety and all I want is to die or feel like there is reason for my skeleton to have organs and skin. Well, I refuse to use drugs, a temporary meaning. I want something that’s real but I am so blind.
It’s been three weeks since I’ve used Dextromethorphan. It’s been a week since I’ve drank alcohol. I left rehab against medical advice but I am in outpatient treatment and soon to once again be a rat for medication management.
Still, I am one of many in a field of delicate flowers and I want to be the one you pick, the one whose scarred petals catch your eyes. For I am stuck, forced to settle around those who sway next to me in the same routine. Take me somewhere else. Get me out of this dirt so I can die with you.
Rewind to memories of yesterday.
How do I go about killing myself? So many years I did it wrong, relying on whimsical overdoses to stop my self-centered heart. I have time to think and of course taking a bunch of you know what comes to mind. Wrong! My overdoses turn into epiphanies, a war between sobriety and relapsing and depending on pills for a near-life experience. I want to be the sick dog that gets euthanized. I’m tired of living, World. All I want is passion to live, the same passion that I feel on DXM, but it isn’t coming naturally. Anxiety eats away at my stomach when drugs are not. I am frustrated with paranoia and hearing and seeing things that others say they don’t. I need to find an escape from here. I need something I know will not fail.
And it is clear, the creators of my roots,
I define paradox
→ Black Guy Thinkin Time 3
It is nights like these that matter
#dextromethorphan #DXM #Epiphany #Anxiety #Addiction #Suicidal #The feels #Post Traumatic Stress Disorder #PTSD
I am so empty and trying to cheer everyone up but I can’t even find a content mind when I awake. I can’t summon beautiful literature anymore. I feel dead inside. I hate sobriety, I hate the anxiety. I hate not knowing what I’m going to do in the next upcoming weeks. I want to get fucked up really, really bad. It’s hard to find comfort in giving drugs up when I just sleep that sober life away. I hate the sober me. I hate the fucking anxiety!
Not where I want to be in life
I just masturbated, something that I do not often do because drugs really depress any sexual desire that I could muster, and the split moment of euphoria following orgasm enticed cravings to use. I said I was done with this! Where is your head, Amber? I want to start college next year. Oh, one more time could not be a deal breaker but it is never one more time. One more time does not exist for me but oh, I do not want to exist without using. I am so down. I am so empty. Dextromethorphan simply completes me. Why did I do this to myself? Eight years ago, I never thought the Red Devils would take over me, possessing me and turning sober life into Hell. I cannot give in, I cannot, or this battle will never end but it is so tempting and I just want to feel that high over and over again. Is it possible to get through this? I don’t know life any other way. Please, God, help me get through this and see a brighter day.
I have to stop fooling myself
How can I want
There has to be an
When the changes came,
Amber Rose Holley. 21.|
These entries are more than just words - they are my story, open and honest, down to the core of my soul. I write with the intention of understanding myself more and to possibly inspire others to not feel alone with their troubles.
TRAPPED IN AMBER
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