* I’m considering parceling out what’s left into small little doses that I’ll use to help me taper, or, better idea, keep a little emergency dose for when I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE MAN so I can have a tiny little managed relapse instead of like, telling my dealer about how I’m doing a couple days off, a couple days on, and then asking if I can get an 🎱.

So it’s Wednesday, and you know what that means, right? No? Get fucked. Who the Hell are you anyways? Get out of my—

*blip*

So it’s Wednesday, and we all know what that means, right? Time for @allthetimesivedied@hexbear.net to make another half-assed effort to quit doing meth.

Seriously though it’s getting to the point where if I don’t quit or at least be a functioning addict I am probably going to kill myself.

And this time I’m motivating myself with…

*spins wheel*

*it stops on “The adorable 5’1” crust punk I’m sad about might talk to me again”*

*there isn’t any other thing on the wheel except for that*

But seriously though I feel disgusting and I hate myself and I want to die. So here’s hoping it works out.

  • the_itsb [she/her, comrade/them]@hexbear.net
    13·
    9 months ago

    All the times I’ve successfully quit things - opiates were the hardest, but this worked for cigarettes and weed too - I quit before I used up whatever stash I had, and you’re right, just knowing that I had that little thing tucked away made it so I didn’t feel like I had an excuse to go get some just in case and then dip into that stash because why not. I just kept it there for “an emergency,” and then kept telling myself that everything that happened didn’t quite rate “emergency,” so then I had to figure something else out, and then eventually I just didn’t even really consider the stash anymore.

    So maybe this method could work for you too? ❤️ I know you’re struggling and needing a change, and I hope you find it.

    • allthetimesivedied [they/them, she/her]@hexbear.netOP
      5·
      9 months ago

      I firmly believe that if I’m gonna quit, I need to have the willpower to be around it. I basically every time just decide I’m gonna quit when I run out of dope, and then my neurotransmitters bottom out, I start freaking out, and then I’m right back where I started, waiting for my dealer to break into his own trailer because he locked himself out and built too many security features to keep “them” out.

      Especially because all my friends, including not only my future boywife but also the person who will be officiating our wedding (my dealer) do drugs.

      Boy am I insane yeehaw.

      • the_itsb [she/her, comrade/them]@hexbear.net
        4·
        9 months ago

        if I’m gonna quit, I need to have the willpower to be around it

        100%

        It doesn’t matter how much you structure your life around sobriety — if you still need it every time you see it, it’s just a matter of time.

        It’s much easier in the beginning to not be around other people using, it’s a lot easier to not choose that when you’re not seeing others constantly choosing it, but it’s impossible to avoid forever.

        I know you feel insane, but from what I’ve read of your posts, you seem to be continually making discoveries about yourself and using them to build pieces of a path towards a future you’re hopeful about. There’s nothing crazy about that 🤗

        • allthetimesivedied [they/them, she/her]@hexbear.netOP
          4·
          9 months ago

          Right now though I’m having kind of a really bad negative thought loop. How I lost my friend because I’m mentally ill, lonely, autistic, and unbelievably lacking in social skills; the piece or shit who narc’d on me to my friend, about how I flipped shit on him because (and this part was left out of course) he said they lead dudes on for attention, he gets to see them, because he isn’t annoying, and because he has social skills. And nothing I say or do will change anything. I need to “move on.” I can’t even find this dude and jump him because I’ve been extremely weak literally from the day I was born (congenital hypotonia) and uhh I don’t know what he looks like since it was the middle of the night when this happened. So I just have to suck it up and deal with it. Move on. Make other friends. I feel like I’m fucking insane but the pain I feel when I think that they’re gone forever is fucking real. That doesn’t fucking matter though, of course. It literally makes me want to kill myself.

          But at the sam time, I hold onto this hope that they’ll talk to me again one day when I’ve gotten better. They would be happy to see that happen; they’re used to people being fucked off disappointments.