birdmad i remember the weekend i kicked...cold turkey.

i made arrangements with a customer to acquire a small cycle of compazine from the hospital where he was interning...needed it for the pain and nausea.

the nearly empty apartment and the three day weekend

i told my family i was going camping ( a cover story i used quite often to explain my "business" trips.)

before the weekend began, to say goodbye to the dragon who i had been chasing for quite some time, i took the last of my laced smokes, lit one up and destroyed the rest, crumbling them up and throwing them into the toilet, flushing them down and watching as the went.

another friend who was just recently clean volunteered to babysit me.

(funny, i never told her that i had the most intense crush on her, ironic because at that time i was sleeping with just about every girl who crossed my path)

[my partners/accomplices kept this place for the purpose of conducting certain business and decorated only the living room so as to fool prying eyes

we always payed the rent and utilities in perfect time and no one asked any questions]

the compazine was just to take the edge of the pain, just enough to keep me from going into shock or going through the windows or walls

she bought a ball-gag to keep me from chewing off my toungue or lips...luckily it wasn't all that bad, but she had seen worse cases than me

the cramps left small bruises in some spots where they had become outright spasms

screw twelve-step, screw the methadone clinics, this was the only way to fly

water, clear soup and multivitamins

my fingernails gouged my palms, drawing blood in small crescent shapes

i had begun as thursday afternoon and the school week came to a close...

it lasted just under seventy-two hours

the ball-gag ended up serving a different purpose, to muffle my screaming and crying from the sensations and delerieum

when late sunday evening became monday morning and it was clear that i was on the other side of it, i finally slept and she curled up next to me keeping me warm, worn and dirty as i was.

emerging early monday evening like some ersatz vampiric messiah.

eventually, she moved on to the "normal" life she never thought she wanted (so she said)

and awhile later i adopted the fašade of one.
grendel opium




phil I like to make a withdrawl
societal values for 200
cheer-up-emo-kid physical and mental withdrawl from a person.
thats what Im having
I need to feel human touch.
I even stopped taking my medecine because the thought of happiness in a pill replacing real happiness made me sick.
Im always tired but I cant sleep. Im like a zombie.
and I dont like it.
User24 being faced with blank expressions as usual god, I need to slow down on blather, the trouble is, it's so instant, I can voice myself, speak to people who understand, or at least respectfully do not.

the greatest thing about blather, IMHO, is the fact that I can say something, and someone will eventually reply on the same level as me, day to day, I can't get that, these conversations, eg free_will, I can only have with one other person, IRL, and we agree so much that it's sometimes hard to argue with each other. That's why blather is great, because, it's a refuge from the dullness of life.
Flowers from Safeway I'm curious: Does the 'withdrawal' title of this blathe refer to your need for blather, or your desire for this type of interaction with live people in your everyday life?

I agree, blather is a great way to find people to relate to. I think that for many of us, this is where we are most interesting.

(I guess that doen't say much for people who just ask a ztupid_question every day.) hmmmmm.
User24 my withdrawal from blather, during the crash. I doubt I could get any more withdrawn from life, and it wouldn't really bother me if I could.

ztupid_questions are quite fun.
birdmad ache cramp puke cry shiver and shake

damn... it's been a long time
acidshank i knew someone that went thro it. almost killed himself.
holy shit
unhinged it makes me cry
to know and hear how horrible it is
to know he's going through it
to go right back to it
to go through it again
even i don't understand that much self_hate
Risen Day two without morphine for the first time in three years.

I have the shakes, my mind is barely functioning, my stomach is killing me, creatures are crawling all over my skin and I want to scream.

It is at times like these when I hate her for leaving me alone. It is at times like these when I am proud of myself for staying strong. Just.

I told myself all I had to do was to make it to 5pm. She would never contact me when at home. That was her time with him. So now I am safe for another day.

Time for a cigarette and a pint of wine.
what's it to you?
who go