I feel as though everything is just falling apart. NOBODY understands. Not my family, not my friends, nobody. The only time I leave the house is to get massively fucked up. It’s all I want, it’s all i need. I’m drifting away from the only friends I have left, and it sucks. I mean, they go out to parties and drink and smoke but that’s NOTHING.
I feel like it’s all I want to talk about, too. My friends do use occasionally, but not me. I can barely control myself at once a week. I feel drawn to pop pills everyday. I’m not addicted yet, but i’m certain if I had a whole bottle i’d be popping them like candy. It scares me; I’ve never wanted anything SO much. I’ve always thought I had the genes to be an addict; my mom used to do coke frequently before I was born; and my dad did heroin. Even though they’re put together now, they’re total potheads.
But a huge part of me just DOESN’T CARE. Like, would it be the worst thing in the world to be a drug addict? See how fucked I am? Hahahhhahaha.. Because I’m not good at sports, I’m shy, I have zero skills. I am a virtual nothing in the face of society. So I don’t see the point in being good; in trying to achieve something.
I’ve kind of accepted the fact that one day the pills might hurt me. And I won’t survive. But I’m at the point where I’d be happy with that. Cause I don’t really have anything worth fighting for. No bf, no REAL ASS FUCK friends, and my family life…. that’s a mess.
I’m a bad person. I’ve done a lot of bad things and I’m probably going to continue to do them.
My mom still has hope that i’ll change. She wants to “trust” me. But let’s get one thing straight: I will NEVER change. No facility, no rehab no what the fuck ever will change that. The pull is too strong.
And when I say “bad” I don’t mean smoking; I don’t mean sneaking out. There’s a long list of my ever lasting imperfections and mistakes. I’m talking drug addict behavior, as my mom calls it. Fuck, but I’m too damn paranoid to type it.