I got nothin’.
My current main conundrum remains an ever increasing uncertainty.
A failure to thrive… is the term they use. But that’s not completely accurate.
I believe that I’m far enough away from the smash/bang/pingpingping of daily meth usage that I’ve been rendered a different person. But, you know, that’s what I may have always thought. …in intermittent periods of limbo.
Just, this time… it’s different somehow.
I mean, it’s exactly the same. Maybe it will always be exactly the same…. I think the passage of time has continuously molded the period “AM”… After Meth.
So, it’s time and experience… not the drug. Whiplashing for a prolonged period off the drug will always be the same thing. Always. It’s just with each successive go-at-it, the whiplashing and the limbo have evolved into a different experience. Objectively always the same.
I mean, objectivity doesn’t exist. But my reaction is the only thing that has changed.
And so, this time, though I feel like maybe, ‘this is it’ in the best possible manner. ‘This is it’, in a ‘the end’ of drugs manner. I feel thoroughly dissatified. An ennui. Some sort of mid-float. Some sort of indifference. To everything. Hidden affect.
I don’t think that it’s lost. Just hidden.
And, of course, this is expected. …with the surrender of a CNS stimulant… dissatisfaction, loss of affect, blahblahblah… but this is the steamrolled version. The invidious version.
I believe I’ve reached some sort of optimal point wherein denial can no longer accept itself as it’s own means of survival. Meaning… I’ve done this shit too many times.
The drug binge that lasts years.. then the mild fall-out. Then the ultra-directed meth binge that lasts two plus years, and the yummy syringes and crimson cloud… followed by the painful psychological fall-out. And then the cut. The decision to not think about it, not do it, like ‘spaces’ on a mac. One stops using space #2. Completely. Done. What was that?
Mac ‘spaces’ are discontinuous. And therefore, rendered completely different animals. Disconnected. An intellectual awareness of exactly what went down. Vivid pictures. An absolute ability to recall the fine details of all past. Laterally.
You know everything. You can describe these past events in the most specific of detail. You can even describe how you felt. That you knew that you felt a certain way emotionally.
But somewhere, somehow… it all became merely intellectual knowledge. Even the emotional.
As in, you know you felt these stringent, specific feelings. You can describe them to a T. But somehow, you, right now, in this moment, are sooo detached from these images and emotions that you can describe and understand so well.
And, so… you know things in your life… in your head. but for the life of you, you cannot feel them.
See, I told you… I got nothin’.