poisoned head.  these are the times i need to remember next time i am organising scoring.  yet i know how my mind works and it will ignore any trace of badness in the past for the temporary relief of gabo.  

just three shots in a 24 hour period and 18 hours after the last one my mind is plunged back into a pit of blackness.   many things prompted the return to usage sat morn, unhappy at work, physically tired, relationship shite. there's never one thing that pushes me into scoring zone, its the accretion of life's detritus, building up like dust in a flat.  last sat morn i scored because i wake up next to a beautiful woman every morning, buti cannot touch her.  maybe i really am in some nightmare, maybe i did overdose all those years back in that ZZZ toilet, and maybe these are just the dying flashes of a dying mind, tricking itself that it's lived a full life.  but if that's the case why should it be punishment?  Why get the beautiful girl and be denied her touch?

i guess the only answer is that the mind is a strange place alive or dying, and it has delicate mechanics.  start stuffing with them and you tip into nastiness before you know it. 

I sit in a darkened flat, the only light the monitor of this PC, I cannot stand the light because it reveals failure and decrepitude all around me.  I know that this is not "real", that when I am OK the flat is fine and I can happily sit in it for hours, but now, with only relatively minor withdrawal symptoms, it is all too much.   The one thing that could have helped me this afternoon I pushed away.  S called from the N Coast.  She has been gone since I went to work Friday and Thurs night I slept on the couch after I had my hand clinically removed from her upper back.  of course when she asks what the problem is (did she? i am not sure of that) i cannot tell the real reason just mumble excuses about a bad weekend.  though i knew the damage was done as i hung up the first phone call.  she is not the kind of girl to forgive and empathise with anothers pain, if that pain has anything to do with gabo usage.

It's funny really.  I need her the most after using, when my mind is like this.  And that is when she will not be near me.  Right now she is a 100 kilometres away surrounded by family and friends while I sit in the dark with only a super-critical mind for company.   I fantasise of her walking through that door.   I know this will never happen.  I have never been enamoured of fantasies but I have to give myself this little temporary pleasure, hopeless as I know it is.   Just a word by SMS or fone would pull me out of this hole but it isn't to be.  Y can't I ring her?  fucked up deep-ingrained beliefs about not asking for help when it is most needed.  But then again, last time I did ask for help, for her to hold my hand in the middle of the night, I was spurned because I was not morally innocent, ie it was pain from gabo usage.

So I can get help, anytime I don't need it.  Just don't ask for it when I do need it.

I apologise to anyone out there reading this self-indulgent drivel.  It helps me purge the darker, stupider notions in my head by setting the crazy patterns it out on screen.  I know I am in for a long night.  I am 33 now and when I was 22 I walked voluntarily into a Brisbane triage unit, Biala, and spent a week coming off 1.5r grams a day.  How strong I was then.   Where did that strength go.  I guess the last 11 years depleted a lot o fit, like fat being burnt off by a marathon runner.  Only now when I realise I have no fat left to burn am I trying to stop running.

my head is broken.  the Pixies said it and I did it.  I await a sunrise, I await the return and fights, I await a new dawn.