Drug addicts/People who use drugs are probably the last marginalized social category that it’s totally OK to treat like shit. There’s a movement to promote drug users’ humanity and advocate for our civil rights (things like safe injection sites, safe supply, ending the War on Drugs), which is still in its very early infancy; if you’re interested, a good place to start is looking up the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users (VANDU), and its associated org, the Drug Users’ Liberation Front (DULF). “Harm reduction” is a keyword that’s heavily associated with our movement.
It’s a rare sight, a drug addict (in “active addiction”) speaking for themselves and for their community (yes, community). I’m not ashamed of my drug use. I have never scammed anyone for drugs. I have never stolen from anyone. And in contrast to how jaded this world leaves most of us who do dope in the shadows, I have met the closest friends and the most awesome people I’ve met in my entire life since I started doing drugs. I’m going to rehab soon (I guess), but I don’t intend to leave this world behind all the way. These are my friends. These are my people. o7
Anyways…
Yeah ask me anything. Some questions I may respectfully pass on because of reasons.
I’m calling the rehab place tomorrow, technically today, btw.
Lack of motivation, the absence of hope.
I talk a lot about my friend, the one who won’t talk to me anymore. They’re the only motivation I can find in this empty world, but I still haven’t called the rehab place and I still have only left my shack to charge my phone, crittle around* a bit, and the go to my local Kroger subsidiary and buy sushi with your taxpayer dollars. Pretty much every single time I’ve tried quitting, it was because I knew it would mean something to them. Even before I started hyperfixating on them. The one time I really almost did it, the day I woke up and realized I had passed the amphetamine bow shock and felt like my old self again (I didn’t even make it a day before I relapsed lol), I texted them and told them I quit meth.
And then either I give up because it feels stupid, or white-knuckling gets too hard for me and I tell myself I can taper down instead or that I can have the self-control to take a harm reduction route (i.e. hit the bong once instead of 12 fucking times) and then something throws me off or gets me down and oops I just smoked an entire gram lol.
What’s funny is, this most recent time I tried quitting, when I got to the point where I could walk around and do stuff and function and not freak the fuck out, I loved it. I felt great. And then I got high.
I know I can’t blame all my problems on meth. In fact sometimes I feel like I was more fucked up before I started doing meth. But like, I used to brush my teeth every day. I used to be able to have something for more than a couple weeks before I fucking lose it. I used to have a reputation as something other than a fucking loser.
What’s weird is I don’t think my best friend also being my dealer will be a problem. He’s said that he wants to talk about how he can be supportive, if I do go to rehab. And I don’t think it’s worth it if I can’t develop the willpower to just not fucking do meth.