Well page... I guess I have to come clean. Theres some things I need to tell you. My flaws are sewn into your flesh anyway and ignoring them would be impossible. I tend to impose this surgical rejuvenation into covering up my mishaps and burbs and any quality of being less than driven and on track. I'll note a misguided thought or a temptation but I'm very quick to wipe the dirt off with a positive 'next step' outlook afterward. I dont have that right now. See, I haven't visited you or called to check in or stopped by to say hi and to be honest... its because I dont want to be as honest as I know I should be. You hold a disappointment factor for me. You are my outline that I've convinced myself to follow because its right. These are the steps. This is whats going to take me where I need to be. This is what to do... I've documented me scrapping bottom just enough to realize its not where I want to be. Shed honesty about things I'm still not too sure I should have. I've made you my filter for being real.
And I can't change that facet to your structure.
I've been phasing out of self time. I've had plenty of rest and mind grinding and solitude and pockets of not knowing what I'm doing and depression and so it just felt necessary for me to come out of my little cave and do again. I got good at being. It was something I could do endlessly if I didn't have a dependence on just the simple presence of another person in the room. I have yet to find a way to fully denounce company and friendship as a need. Its a desire. Its also ingrained in my nature. Probably everyones to an extent. But when you spend enough time by yourself, you see nothing objective, nothing outside of your range of vision. Its all you. Its the epitome of selfish. Not in action, but in discipline. Distractions become optional and sometimes, dont even exist. You build routines. Morals. Do and Donts. Self worth. Independence.
The problem with being guided by your own flame is that you lit it. YOU found the torch. YOU didn't ask for help. YOU didn't ask for input. YOU. just. did.
Its gotta be a balance act. One foot on objectivity, one on your side. This is the only way to engage logic and dilute justification and not fall backwards like I have been.
I've been playing this 'I'm a sober new human confused premature pregnancy' voice for a while now. It was accurate. It was where I was. However, it was rooted and based only in MYSELF. An introspective, self inventory on what virtues I could maintain and what vices I could eliminate. I had it pretty secure and devoted. It became my normal for so long that temptations just became echoes. Whispers at most.
But my unbalanced approach to this is where I fucked up: I forgot about what happens when mood shifts. When seasons change. When your torment subsides. This devotion and dedication and discipline is all filling for a winter, reclusive space but... how did I expect myself to re acclimate myself to being external, present me again? My skin hasn't gotten that thick. I can still smell a blunt from a mile a way. I had just began to lick my wounds...
This weekend, I hung out with my other half. He's been following the same regimen I have; sobriety, working out, etc. It felt good to dive back into where our friendship left off and get some real conversation for once. However, there was a cloud feeling of 'theres something missing' at a certain point. It wasn't boring. It wasn't like we needed a circus and dancing bears or nothing. It was just ... different. Which can be good and could have been dealt with, I'm sure. But our energies communicate on a very weak willed wave length.
He noticed that I had fallen asleep while he was working on something, but being the light sleeper I am, I woke up to him asking if I was down to watch a few episodes of Entourage.
'That sounds about right, sure.'
I got up, wiped my eyes and stretched. I was tired still. I remember looking in the mirror contemplating just smoking a cigarette and going home. And then I saw his face with the look of Santa in his eyes. He handed me a little baggy full of cocaine.
'Figured you could use a little pick me up.'
Now... I dont blame him. In no way am I saying ' THIS MOTHER FUCKER PUSHED MY NOSE INTO SOME DRUGS AND I TOLD HIM NO AND BEGGED HIM TO STOP AND CRIED FOR MY MOM AND HE JUST ...' - no, I am my own decision maker. I could have looked at that and said 'ah not this late' or some other excuse to not indulge. But instead, it automatically brought a grin to my a face and a 'yeahhh buddy' feeling. Christmas came early.
' You know I love my drugs like I love my women... white.'
We partook. Generously. Horrible quality. But the thing about coke, that most dont understand, is that its not necessarily the 'high' of the drug that makes you addicted... its the short frustrating length of the high that starves your desire for more and more and more of... well, anything. If you got more blow, all to you. But if not, safe travels till you fall asleep....
The rest of the night we spent ravaging through apartments searching in seat cushions and light fixtures and backs of toilets for bottles of oxycodone. After finding nothing but some liquor and some xanax, we proceeded to drink and snort prescriptions till nothing made sense and there was bags of chips and dogs snoring and thats about where my memory cut out.
Waking up and not remembering if you fell asleep, if its still yesterday and really 11 oclock is pm instead of am... felt all too familiar. I sat thinking to myself about my choice and obviously rationalized this little slip... but 24 hours prior to that choice... I would have NEVER thought I would have done something that old school and reckless or fell off the wagon that fucking easily. I was a little ashamed.
My phone rang.
"Yo... what... the fuck... was that..?"
" What, the note I left you or-"
"No, last night. Like seriously, what the fuck was that?!!"
We had a good laugh. It was putting on my childhood pajamas again and being read bed time stories. It was comfort. But we both said- this. was. just. a. one. time. thing.- lets get back on track.
Well, I'm glad one of us did. I unfortunately realized how much I missed that communion and level and space with others. It was the first time in the past 3 months I told my logical side to sit down and let me go back home for a while.
Yes, I've been working out and keeping up with the positives I can... while at the same time... lingering off of that slow drag back into the abyss. Its there. I know how it feels. How it smells. That space and I have some history. And sadly, I have to admit... drugs are dependable. They are there when I'm lonely. Confused. Sad. Happy. Hungry. Hanging out. They dont leave you. They dont move away and pass on or forget your name. They dont say they're going to do something and dont. They.Follow. Through.
Later, I had a conversation with my brother about this topic, including what I'm doing with myself in general. I filled him in on my 'direction' or whatever you'd call it now and he said to me-
'You need to start doing something with your writing man. I mean, its cool and probably fulfilling to have a journal and what not, and I know that you say alot of stuff publicly that even surpass my capacity to be honest. But if you're putting all your everything into this, and its something you can do and open eyes with and show people sides that your not afraid to show... and you dont get anything in return, whats this all going to? You can be the artist but be creative on bringing your art to the rest of us."
Reason number 1:) why you shouldn't just take your own perspective as being right.
Of course, I tried to play it off like it doesn't bother me. That I do this for me and its fulfilling in itself to be able to be open, if not to anyone else but myself. Which is partially true... but at the same time... he's very right.
Writers. Artists. Dancers. Musicians. The life of the passionate. If we stop watering our purposes, it withers and turns to shit and goes no where. But if you branch out, reach for the highest point that you've only dreamt about... and actually try to grasp it, just maybe you will.
I've seen it. I just need to see it in myself.
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