I guess I never really thought about my relationship with drugs
Or my past of abusing over the counter drugs.
I was so dissociated I didn’t feel like any of that was happening to me.
That no, I could never have an eating disorder.
No, being raped hadn’t dramatically scared me.
Don’t be silly!
I used to take lots of sleeping pills because I couldn’t bear being alive.
It felt like chains were keeping me in bed, pulling me away from life.
I always had a romantic relationship with my medication.
I was always taking it, I would always love not taking it, I would always think about how much I had to take to kill myself.
I do extensive research on every medication I take.
How much would kill me.
How much would I have to save.
How painful would my death be?
How many times have I OD’d?
At the very least, twice.
This might be my third.
It’s never intentional.
It’s just a complete and utter lack of caring if I lived or died.
But I don’t want to die.
According to medical information online,
Just be in for a fucked up trip.
It should be just like taking morphine.
Because I’ve done that, too.
I used to take a drug specifically not to dream,
because I used to have such horrible nightmares that I would bite my tongue to bits.
I have a problem with drugs.
But I am recovering. Recovering from everything.
I am healing and it feels so good.
I don’t want to die.
I want to fix everything and live forever.
I want everyone I love to live forever with me.
I don’t have a problem with drugs anymore.