Post-rock bottom (?)
I’m an addict. Have been since I was fifteen years old. I’ve gone between bouts of sobriety but never have remained sober. Longest I went was a year and four months. I’ve tried so many drugs for my schizoaffective disorder (bipolar type) with little luck except for this last-resort medication they gave me in my last hospitalization. Helps with the SI. But I’m still depressed. I’m so depressed that I think I’m a bad person. So depressed that I dissociate and can’t trust my memories because half of them aren’t rooted in reality. All of the emotional and spiritual and physical pain I feel on a daily basis.. and I can’t do drugs or alcohol to numb or alter it? My friend who I’m staying with made it a rule that I can’t drink or do drugs while I live here. He’s thrown away my shit. Confiscated it. And I want to tear him limb from limb to find my shit and lay in this bed that I paid for btw and get fucking high cause that’s my fucking right. He doesn’t know, no one knows what I go thru but me. Hating myself my whole life .. I deserve a drink or a hit. Fuck.