I'm cold. I'm pretty cold. Could be it's
cold outside today, not really sure, but I am very cold. It could be winter,
maybe, possibly? I don't know. Could be April, May, February, August or
January. Lost track of time, the hours, days. Seems like people are dressed for
the Summer, as they head to their destinations. Homes. Jobs. Families. Bars.
Kid's Soccer Games. Used to be me. Used to be my old life. This dirty wool overcoat,
the worn out jacket and Donald Duck sweater I wear under my coat aren't keeping
me warm. These clothes are all I have. Well I have a few other possessions I
managed to keep but not much. There isn't too much of anything for me anymore.
Not since. Not since.
Sometimes,
I see people around me with all their fancy things, things they don't even
value, and it makes me angry. Can I get angry and blame them for my troubles?
Blame the World? Yeah, sometimes I can, but it doesn't help anything, and it's
not the truth. Can't put the blame on their shoulders. Can't do it. Sometimes I
wonder how I got to this point, where my path veered so drastically. But then I
realized, this was a path I took on my own. How many paths could there have
been in front of me? Did I have a lot of choices? That's a simple question to
answer, yes. Would things be different? Now that is somewhat of harder answer
to find. I'm still very cold. Sweating even though I'm cold.
Now
I'm hungry. I could be starving, I don't know and I can't tell. What? Two days?
Three days? Maybe a week? Since my last proper meal. Found little things here
and there, small scraps of snacks I've picked up. Half eaten meals people threw
away. Things to calm hunger, not satisfy it. There's the craving too, a
horrible one. It's much worse than the hunger, sometimes it's worse than thirst.
Not a good feeling. Not at all. But it's here. I have to deal with it. Makes me
itch. Sometimes it's as if my skin is burning. Maybe this why my skin is filled
with scabs. Got scratch marks all over too. Those could be from anything
though. Nights I've forgotten. Bad. Harsh, it's so very harsh. Still makes me
think about the things that happened. How I became part of one World and at the
same time so disconnected from another. How this World brought me to my knees
and refused to let me get back up. Or maybe and more likely my own devices are keeping
me down, keeping me from getting back up. From being able to start again,
fresh. Try to move on from this, forget the demons of my past. The high blocks
it out, blocks it all out for a little while. The demons that inhabit the
memories of my past life. Being high is all I have to soothe my constant pain.
Maybe the high can help warm me up today.
Don't
have much money left. Won't be able to get much to calm the craving. Any is
enough though, just a hit. Won't be that way forever. One day, I'll need more
and more, just to ease all the pain. I'll need to get some more money today or
tonight. Going too long without the fix, without the high, dealing with the
craving, allowing my mind to focus on memories. Gotta get some more money.
There's always a way to get or find money, enough for what I need, even in my
despicable predicament. Most things I will forever regret, but I need to do
them. It's hard to wake up or be lulled to sleep without the high. Too many
memories and demons come in, crowd my mind. Weighing me down. The memories are
the worst. Realizing where I came from, where I am now. How far have I fallen.
This life I have lived. Wasn't the greatest person, had my problems but had a
job. A good job and was successful. People counted on me, the functioning
borderline addict. People knew and saw my potential. I was a risk but I was
holding it together and my talent could never be denied. My family. The family
I had. Wife. A beautiful wife. Loving, caring, thoughtful, a woman who would do
anything for her husband. She would do anything for her stupid druggy husband.
All the support I needed, in everything I did.
A
daughter. My lovely precious daughter. Precious daughter. Angel of mine. It
feels colder. A lot colder. I love my daughter. So much. She's the only good
memory I have in this World. The Park. The Pool. Her School Plays. Recitals.
Picking her up from School. My heart. I hate that she recognizes me in this
terrible conditions. How could she still love me? How could something so beautiful and precious
love me? She still believes her father is a good man, a good "Daddy."
She always did. But one day. One day she'll. She'll. One day she will
understand. Things I've done to provide for myself, foster my bad habits, but I
wouldn't do to help them, help the wife and daughter I love. My wife she
recognized this, she left. She loved me, to the end, she may still love me, but
she knew I wasn't good. Put up with it longer than she should've. She knew I
would be a danger to her and my daughter's well being. She knew. Left me. One
day she told me, and just left me at the house by myself. Took our daughter to
a better place. To be around people better than me. It had always been a
problem, the drugs, but it wasn't always so major. But quick success, sudden
failure, and pride will always make things much worse. I fell, fell so hard and
my pride wouldn't allow anyone to help me get back up on my feet. Family tried.
Friends tried. My loving wife tried so many times. No, I never accepted or
listened to it. Not accepting any help, I became lost, swallowed up in the
darkness. What was a fair weather habit, slowly became a critical dependency.
Only took me a few months to use up everything I had. Trade it. Sell it.
Whatever. Just to get my high.
Thinking
about my daughter having to see the transformation makes me sick and hurts my
heart. I need my fix. I need it. It should help me with the cold and block out
these terrible thoughts and feelings, these demons. Never could I best them, I
can only tune them out, and only for short periods of time. The thought of
knowing that you've fallen is quite scary. It becomes even scarier when you
realize you're content after the fall. In the darkness you're drowning yourself
in. Do I know this life, the drugs, the things I've done are killing me? Yes. Has
it occurred to me I am hurting the people I love the most, especially my
precious angel, my little heart, my beautiful daughter? Of course I do. I know
how much damage I've done to one so little, so precious, the damage I could do.
Yet, I'm fine living this way. Will I get tired of it one day, possibly, who
knows. It could kill me before that, I know this. Right now, I just want to
figure out how to warm up. Warm up and drift away, drift away from this World,
from those memories, from the demons.
