Bring Me to Life

I’m fucking wet. I am bitchy and pissy. I have to force myself to get out of bed in the morning, and absolutely everything bores me to tears. I want my high back. I want my drug. I want to spread my legs and be fisted and fucked. I want to be me again–I want to feel alive. I do not want to spend any more time dream walking through my days.

That is how I feel–that I might as well be asleep for all I am able to experience of life. In recovery, as in insomnia, you’re never really asleep, and you’re never really awake. I need more.

Stability didn’t do it.

Moving from a hell hole into a hovel didn’t do it.

Sitting at a desk instead of pouring coffee for assholes didn’t do it.

Quitting smoking, getting more sleep, spending more time with my family, didn’t do it.

I am broken. I admit it. But I have come to the conclusion that the cure–this endless, bland, tasteless sobriety–is worse than the disease.

Who cares if I endanger myself, if the alternative is feeling like I am already dead?

I do not exaggerate. I feel nothing. And I know–I know–that all I need to be my most vibrant, alive self, is to go back to the edge.

I can’t explain it. It just is what it is. I am who I am. I need it to wake me up.

I am dying for a lover to bring me to life.

 


12 Comments on “Bring Me to Life”

  1. chinaskie says:

    Some thoughts to further aggravate you 😉

    Are you truly alive in that state, or maybe just …animated?

    Is it possible you’ve only been away from all that activity for a very short period of time and now your whole being is in a withdrawal? It’s very common.

    What if you recalled your recent trauma? If it had happened to someone you loved dearly, would you be cool with her going back out into the “fray” so soon?

    If you went back out into it, what if you repeated the following thought as you planned the steps of your next encounter: “And then what?”
    What would you learn?

    I know that junkie itch. I’m sorry you aren’t getting healthy stimulus to move your mind elsewhere. It’s fucking hard as hell to sit with that discomfort.

    I wish you some kind of safe relief or joy or something that helps you feel good and present.

    You’re not alone.

  2. chinaskie says:

    Project Mayhem, indeed.

  3. I am dead too. It won’t stop raining and I can’t get out of bed. If I had the energy to go out and look for someone else I think it would do me some good. But for now I’ll just sleep it off.

  4. You’re in transition, and your not done. Time Girl, time. Find a distraction, a new hobby, something to focus you mind on. Life is grueling sometimes, and fucking is so easy. But you made a choice. Follow it a bit more. if you choose to go back, and you certainly can, just remember the cost.

  5. plantpage says:

    Be who you are and be ALIVE!!


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