Tag Archives: drugs



This is me. I am Carol. 

It’s been difficult for me these days.

Here are some things that have been happening.

-I’m sick. I don’t mean mental health sick, or “fucked up” sick. But I feel terrible. I don’t know if I’m feeling sick as a result of my mental illness or if I’m legitimately like virus-type sick. I’ve been feeling tired all day. I’ve been feeling this way for the past three weeks. It’s ruining some of my interpersonal relationships. I don’t have the energy to do anything. I helped my mom run errands yesterday. In the intervals when we would be in the car getting to the next location, I would just fall asleep immediately. Something is wrong with me. My body is tired and sore.

– My parents are fighting again. Every time the fights are bad, my mom hints that she’s going to get a divorced because she’s “sick of dealing with this.” The fights are never bad, like, physically bad. And my parents don’t call each other names. But rather, they are passive-aggressive bad. They are bad in the way that they don’t talk to each other and ignore each other. I am really sad whenever this happens.
My culture has a very difficult relationship with seeking help for personal issues, whether it be marital problems or problems stemming from mental health. It isn’t that people from my culture are stupid, or anything. But we are ignorant, and this is because of the way it’s been for years. It is the attempt at trying to preserve our culture and keeping with traditional ways that keeps us ignorant. My mom is pretty progressive, but my dad isn’t. As a result, he refuses to go to a marriage counselor.

Right now, after noticing that this time it’s my dad who’s causing the fight, I am trying to come to terms that maybe this is for the best. I read some articles and realized that it is selfish of me to try to keep trying to keep my parents together, which is what I’ve always done. I’ve always tried to be the middle-man in an attempt to make things better, even if it stresses me out and is ruining my mental health at that time. I guess, I currently realize that if my parents are constantly angry with each other and it seems to be a never-ending cycle, they should do whatever they deem best.

I say this with using “I CURRENTLY think.” I say this as I know I will get extremely sad and go against what I’m saying later on.

-I think that I am going to end the relationship I am in. I started dating the person I am dating back in May. I had broken up with a previous significant other in February, and I had been with them for two years. I honestly think that I got in this relationship out of spite towards the other person. I wanted so badly for them to see how badly they hurt me, and because of that, I was trying to be happy with someone else. One month after I got in the new relationship, my previous partner died of an overdose. I feel like that hit me really hard and that’s when I realized, what the fuck am I doing? I’ve tried to make it work. But it isn’t just me. The person I’m dating has their own issues and sometimes, it’s things that i really can’t deal with. For example, I’ve been needing a lot of space lately. I’ve been trying to figure things out for myself. And initially, they said that they were typically the person that tries to not be serious and not be in monogamous relationships. But as soon as we started dating, that completely changed. They said they were in love with me. They got clingy and dependent. I cannot do that. I can’t even try. As I’ve mentioned before, I have been really tired. I have no energy. It’s beginning to feel like I have no energy to put towards this relationship, too.
I am lonely. I have been very lonely ever since my ex-partner died. I was angry towards them but deep down, I still loved them very much and hoped that they would get it together so that we could date again. But obviously, they never did. But it is incredibly selfish of me to take my loneliness and do things that are harming other people. By knowing that I do not love the other person and staying with them despite this, I am hurting them. I tell them that my low energy level is temporary. But I know I am stalling. I’m stalling from dealing with bigger issues. I am a shitty person and I know I need to stop this. It’s hard. It is easy to read this and say, “wow you’re being really fucking shitty, like, stop.” That’s what I would think, at least. I guess there’s just so much more going on. I thought at one point that I loved this person. But once my ex died, I realized that I didn’t.

-My psychiatrist prescribed me adderall. 5MG to start with. I feel like this is good. I had been getting adderall in unethical ways (lol???) because I knew something was wrong. Not recreationally. But I used it when I needed to study. It helped a lot. I took the test they give you when assessing if this is something you might have, and apparently, I scored high enough on a clinical level. So I feel like even though I was first getting the medication in unethical ways, I wasn’t doing it to harm myself. I knew the implications and I knew that it was bad. But I did it because I thought it would be better for me and it would help me. That sounds like what a drug addict would say tbh but like, it did help me. And it turns out, I do have what I was expecting. I’ve only taken the 5mg pill once, as I’m currently on break from courses and don’t really have something I need to focus on. I don’t want to become dependent on these, either. But the time that I did take it, I felt like it worked. Not for long, but it did for a bit. Was it psychological? Maybe. But it still worked.

-I go back to school in two weeks. I am excited only because I want to be done. I am tired of being stuck in the limbo that is prerequisite courses. I should have been done two years ago. But I got really bad because of my mental health, and only recently got better because I learned how to reach out for help, if I needed it. I want so badly to get into the program because I feel ready to move forward. It isn’t just the rebellious teenager still living inside of me wanting to leave home. It’s feeling like, I am almost 21 (next month) and I should have gotten it together by now. I should have a career by now. I know that there is no time when someone “should” have their shit together. But this is never what I wanted for myself. Shit happens, I know. Life goes on, I know. But this is not what I envisioned my future to be.


Speaking of my future, sometimes I am really amazed and even proud of myself for even still being alive. Not in the way that a higher being has allowed me to live one more day. But in the sense that I have literally thought about suicide every single day since I’ve been 12 so like, it is really an anomaly lol. Sometimes the thoughts are fleeting. Fleeting in the way that something bad will happen and I’ll immediately think, “fuck this sucks, I want to kill myself.” Sometimes it is more serious, and I will have a blade to my wrists or neck, of have a handful of pills ready in my hand. I’ve attempted in the past, but that was years ago. I think that the last time I seriously attempted was when I was 16. That was a long time ago, wow, I’m just realizing this. I guess I’m just proud of myself to be able to push through. I guess it is surprising to me that I am still alive. I always said to myself that I thought I would never live to be in my 20’s, because of my mental illness. Because I think of suicide so often. Sometimes i still think, wow, I’ll never get to my 30’s and I’ll never have a career or a stable relationship because it’s bound to happen soon.

Baby steps, I guess.


So that’s that. There’s what has been happening the last month. Most of the time, I come on here to talk about bad things happening in my life. I feel like that’s how it is for a lot of people that are mentally ill, or even people that are not mentally ill. We want to reach out to people and talk about ourselves when things are rough. We want advice and we want to be comforted. If things are going well, we don’t need to be comforted in the same sense. We are ok, we are sane, if only momentarily. So I guess that’s why a lot of my posts are mostly negative.


A Failed Relationship



Lets see, lets see, what could I say about my most recent failed relationship. There’s just so much to say. It’s hard to even find the words.

First off, I know I play the victim a lot but I really feel like I’m the only one that’s hurting. I’m not sure if that’s because they really don’t care that we broke up or because they’re busy getting high. Probably both. Even so, I don’t think I’m hurting as bad as I thought that I would. Sure, I get really sad sometimes. But that’s normal. I feel ok for the most part. Maybe that’s how it is for them too. I think we were both just tired of dealing with each other’s shit.

I’m a little (a lot) disappointed that this last relationship didn’t work out. I really thought and was hoping that it would. In the beginning, it all felt really dreamy and surreal, which you could contribute to the infatuation that we were both experiencing.


We spent a lot of time together, and it felt like we missed each other a lot, even we had only been apart for an hour. It felt like we were two pieces of the same puzzle. We both liked the same movies, music, food, etc. We connected in random ways, that you wouldn’t have imagined connecting about. We had a lot of good experiences, and first-time experiences together. It felt like they were my best friend. They understood me really well. They understood when I would react to something badly and would quickly apologize after. They didn’t chastise me for that. I liked that. I liked that it felt like even if I I was the craziest person in the world, they could see the good in me.


But even though everything felt so dreamy, I think that things really took a turn for the worst when my ex-partner started relapsing and then left for rehab for 7 months. It was 7 months of not seeing each other and barely being able to talk to each other. It was 7 months of hearing dates of when they would come home, and then having those dates being pushed back, over and over again, because of them constantly relapsing. I think we care for each other a lot. We were together for 1 year and 5 months. Apart for 7. Life moves on, even if you’re not in each other’s life. I think that’s when we started falling out of love. I think that there is a clear, definitive point in time where you could really look and see, well, they’re not as in love as they used to be.

It is hard to think that at some point, everything was good. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. I think if they hadn’t started abusing drugs the way they are now, we could possibly still be together. There wouldn’t have been as much lying, deceitfulness, or disappointment. That’s what I tell myself, at least.

Today, we are no longer together. We are not even friends. I go back and forth between deleting them and their friends from all of my social media accounts. But I then find myself feeling frantic, wanting to know what they’re doing, and if they’re doing better without me. I find myself wanting to change my number, and feeling the imaginative joy I could feel when they receive an automatic reply that my phone number is no longer in service. I feel very spiteful, but I also feel very hurt.

I feel very apathetic and indifferent towards the relationship we were having. The past few months are indifferent to me. They weren’t good. Most of the time, they were bad.

But the memories, oh the memories. I am in love with the memories, and the memories and feelings of what could have been. It feels disheartening to think that I thought I had a soulmate. We were so alike and it just really feels like a punch to the chest.

Presently, our relationship was stagnant. Nothing was happening and in fact, it felt like the love we had towards each other diminished by the second. They didn’t care about themselves a lot, and I couldn’t handle it. I tried really hard to have things get better. But nothing happened. They just didn’t care. Or they did care, but didn’t do a good job at all of showing it. The last time we hung out was three days ago, on Valentine’s Day. I had been contemplating leaving them. We weren’t together. But we certainly acted like it. I think the thing that was the final straw for me was that, that same day, they groaned when I wanted them to walk me out to their door. How much is that, a couple feet? I left angrily, but forgave them soon after. The next day, they walked at least a mile to the store to buy inhalants to get high with. I always heard that the addict will always love the drug more than they love any of their partners or family members. I tried so hard not to believe it. In that moment, it became very clear that yes, at this point, I am not the thing that they love most.

I am still mourning our failed relationship. We were together for quite a long time, but apart for nearly as long. I find myself feeling stupid sometimes for how hard I tried to save our relationship. Or how badly I wanted them to save themselves.


This has been something that will be really hard to get over. It will take me a long time before I could even think about being with someone else. Even now, here I am, pouring my heart out. I know they will read this, and perhaps they’ll feel just as indifferent as I do. But still heartbroken over what could have been. We could have been so much more.




Recap: Jami got out of rehab and went into a sober living center. That lasted about  week until she relapsed. She got a warning. Then, she relapsed again. She went back to rehab. And here we are. 

I have been going back and forth with what I should do with Jami.

I love her so very much.

But I worry about her a lot. And a lot of my time is spent worrying or thinking about her. My mental health suffers because of it. And my therapist is right, is it worth being in a relationship where you are clearly not putting yourself as a priority?

It is worth it to me.

In my mind, Jami had only been abusing badly when I first found out about the inhalants and when I took her to the hospital. I did not know that she had been abusing cough medicine for years prior to this and during this. So in my mind, I think, everything was normal before the inhalants happened.

But it wasn’t. And I think I mean, or relationship was normal before the inhalants happened. But Jami was not ok. 

I will think back to when we first met and first started dating and I’ll start to cry because I will think, God, everything was so good then.

But then I realize. Jami was probably abusing cough medicine then. So was everything ACTUALLY good? Or was I only seeing what I wanted to see?
I think to myself god damn, I could never let go of Jami. I would never in a million years let go of her.

But then I think, we should break up and maybe in time, we will meet again and be right for each other.

But then I think, I would feel so fucking devastated and angry if I ever saw her with anyone else, because deep in my heart I feel that we are still together and I know that I still love her.
So here we are, at the crossroads. Do I let her go, or do I stay?

I always need certainties because I am such an uncertain and indecisive person. But in a world filled with uncertainties, my heart is sure to implode. 
I go back and forth between what if Jami relapses again? But shouldn’t I support her? But Jami should try to be more independent. But shouldn’t I be sympathetic? But I can’t baby sit her all the time. But I love her?
But I love her.

But I love her.

But I love her.

Rehab and Mexico

Jamie arrived at rehab eight days ago. I went to Mexico nine days ago and arrived home two days ago.

It was easier to stand to not talk to her when I was in Mexico.
I think, that so much of my depression and so much of depression itself is being left alone with your thoughts.
When I was in Mexico, I was constantly doing things. There wasn’t a moment where I was left alone. I was constantly doing things with my family —snorkeling, zip lining, laying by the beach. Sure, there would be moment where I would think, “damn, I miss Jamie a lot.” but it wasn’t to the point where I would cry. I didn’t feel the depression at all when I was in Mexico. and it wasn’t like the times where I’m cycling and I’m feeling good because I’m on a high rather than a low. I felt normal. I felt like how someone is supposed to feel.
But now I’m at home, with nothing to do and I am alone. I am alone and everything reminds me of Jamie and it is hard to not cry and break down several times a day. The sadness is overwhelming.
and I think, “shut the fuck up, Monica. This is what you wanted. You wanted Jamie to get better. Now shut the fuck up and deal with it.”
and I know that Jamie isn’t just off doing something “bad” and I know that we are still very much together. I know that Jamie is gone because they have an addiction and they are trying to get better. But I just feel so alone. I wish I could even talk to them. But yesterday was our anniversary and we haven’t talked in eight days.
I make myself sick with worry.
I feel very selfish. I am very selfish. But I always have been. But wouldn’t anyone else feel the same?
I ask myself, “how much more can you take?”

On dating an addict

You are expecting a relapse every time your partner goes out. And when it happens, your heart aches so badly, it’s hard to get through the night.

Every time my partner goes out with his friends, they use substances that defer their recovery. It’s hard not to get angry and disappointed because recovery is something that you both work so hard towards.
It makes me angry because it always happens when they’re out with friends. It’s all their friends know to do. But it’s not like you can just tell your partner, “stop hanging out with your friends, they’re a bad influence!”
It makes me disappointed because even I stopped using any substances in an attempt to show support.
You can tell that I’m writing this in the moment, right?
I’m just angry. Angry and sad and betrayed.
It makes me angry when they use any substance, even the one they’re not addicted to. In my mind, there’s a reason why in rehab you’re not supposed to use any kind of substances.

It’s hard dating an addict. A former addict. Whatever you want to call it. It’s hard to not want to blame them or anyone when they relapse.It’s hard to try to show support when you’re constantly being kicked down and ignored. It’s hard to want to try when your best efforts go unappreciated.
But you also know that it’s hard for them. That maybe they do appreciate everything you do but their own need for a substance gets the better of them.
It’s hard to know how to show support.

Shroom trip

I “did” shrooms the other day with my partner. Is that how you say it, you “did” shrooms? I feel like that meme that says “I took five marijuanas and it ruined my life.” However you say it, I did it.
It was a strange and weird and cool experience. Although, I don’t think I would ever do it again.
It took an hour to kick in fully but I was seeing the walls melt and doors smiling at me maybe thirty minutes in. While I was waiting for it to kick in, I was lying in a bed and looking up at the drywall ceiling. Stories started appearing on the ceiling and before you know it, the ceiling was see-through and I thought I was under a tree. I was looking up into the roots of a tree.
My mind was racing a mile a minute and I was in a million places that entire night.
My partner has Christmas lights in their room and at one point, I thought I was at Hogwarts during Christmas time. I would lay back on the bed and I would appear at a train station and it would be snowing. I’ve never even been to a train station but I guess I was imagining it from what I’ve seen in movies. It was like one of the old-timey train stations.
I went to shopping malls a lot. More specifically, Safeway, Target, and K-Mart. Everything was funny to me.
My partner and I both had moments where we would cry together but they would, for the most part, be happy tears.
I remember specifically one time, I started crying because they called me beautiful and that they really mean it whenever they say it. I started crying because I admitted that I feel like no one ever means it. My self-confidence can be so low.
My partner also transformed into a lot of people and things and animals before my eyes. They were a cyborg, a pony, a tigress. All so beautiful to me.
Like I said before, my partner and I cried a lot together. We just feel like it is so beautiful how good we are at loving each other. It was emotional, in a good way.
It was weird because it was all over so suddenly. It all lasted about five hours for me.
It was all so vivid. I make it sound like it was the best thing ever but I had a killer migraine when it was all over and I didn’t even want to move. But I’ve never done anything like that before and it was just such a different experience than anything ever. And I’m glad that my partner was there with me. At one point, when it was the peak, I had to go to the bathroom and we hadn’t told their roommates that we were doing this so I was in the bathroom and I just started laughing hysterically. One of my partners roommates can be a real hard ass and he was just making these comments that made me feel so bad and they still stuck with me afterwards. Since it was at the peak, I started freaking out and seeing spiders and I was crying really hard but my partner calmed me down and we were laughing again before you know it. When I was crying at that point, it actually felt like I was crying so many tears. It felt like I was Alice from Alice in wonderland when she starts and fills up the room with her tears.

Anyway, my partner and I didn’t do anything except talk. We talked for hours together. And even during the trip, we said how we both loved how much we can talk to each other about so many things –regardless of the drugs. I feel closer to my partner because we talked SO MUCH, constantly. I’m glad I did it with them but I would not do it again.