



I wake up from using dreams 3-4 nights a week now. All kinds of crazy shit, mostly where I am stuck in abandoned building on a filthy mattress or I am dopesick and freezing in the rain. This now month long waking nightmare of sorts has stirred up repressed memories of days gone by. I never really cared that much about dying. I mean I was cautious but that is different about caring. I could not visualize what the next day would be like so it was hard to embrace the potential consequences of my life ending. But the covid 19 shit, that makes me afraid in a new way.





What do you do when you have no control? Let go? Hold on until you are exhausted in the struggle? Eat myself into a coma? Day drink? Shoot dope? Exercise (lollollol)? This time has really revealed the vulnerabilities in my own personal safety net. I did not realize I needed people this much. I miss people I don't even like. But I am moving from the depths of despair into finding the little joys in daily living. If I'm alive, I might as well enjoy the time I have, right?





Hit me back people. I love you.

I found a bag of meth yesterday. I've found broken syringes, tiny bottle of cheap vodka, and a few wrappers have blown in the spring breeze when I've taken the dog out for a walk. What day of the week is it again? Oh, it is another generic day in my house. I generally don't CRAVE drugs. I get little "c" craving. Things like seeing a person pull the needle out as we make eye contact as we walk by. I might think to myself "damn that looks good". But mostly, I can maintain a sense of distance between me and my sketchy past. Until this pandemic.