Time Away

I think I'll take some time away
a brief hiatus from having to be me
a small vacation from vicious thoughts

I think I need some time away
it's getting hard to breathe again
time for a distraction from self-hatred

I think I'll take some time away
a temporary escape from who I am
sedating my ego so I can just be

I think I need some time away
life has gotten too serious again
time to remind myself that nothing matters

Literary Haven

Silent hours amongst the company
of thinning, yellowed pages
feeling the heart unravel
within the words of another

A ghostly kinship
that spans the gulf of time
the strange comfort of being seen
by someone long gone

The purest yearning to add
something of your own to a new age
and become a soft place of belonging
for someone else someday

Sisters of spirit scattered across
so many trailing decades
warm embraces can be exchanged
within the binding of a book

On Using Drugs

Recently I met yet another person who told me they have never drank alcohol or tried any drugs. It is always so fascinating to me when I am reminded that these people exist. There is just some part of me that cannot understand them. I simply can’t imagine how someone can go their entire life without even trying any of these mind-altering substances. Especially the legal ones. I, myself, can think of at least two very compelling reasons to do so.

The first reason that always comes to mind is plain curiosity. I don’t know how anyone could be told that there was a drink or a plant or a powder that can make you think and feel totally different and not be intrigued. I have always considered myself a very curious person and look for that same curious nature in others. I am especially curious when it comes to the mind. Anything that can completely alter the mind is just too interesting to avoid. I’ve tried basically every drug besides heroin, cocaine, crack, and meth. I’d probably be willing to try cocaine, I’ve just never had the opportunity. Besides from what I’ve heard, it’s not that great anyway. The only reason I wouldn’t try meth, crack, or heroin is because I’d be too afraid to become addicted. On my deathbed, I may give them a go just to see what it’s like. At that point, why not?

Knowing that many of these substances are illegal could be an understandable deterrent for some people. But alcohol, and even marijuana in some places, are legal. How could you not be curious enough to try them at least once? They are obviously very popular habits for a lot of people. Wouldn’t you want to know why that is? There are few experiences in life that are so distinct and unique. How could you not want to know what other states your mind is capable of experiencing?

If sheer curiosity isn’t enough to get you interested, I can think of another reason: suffering. I always knew I would try drugs even when I was fairly young, just so I could know what they were like. However, I didn’t actually venture down that road until I was in high school. A time rife with turmoil, when emotions are running high, high school seems to be the time when a lot of people begin to experiment with drugs and alcohol. While for the most part, drugs have been a fun, social experience, there have been times when I’ve used them as a crutch.

I’d imagine there are times in everyone’s life when they feel so terribly that they would do anything to feel better, or even to feel nothing at all. If I hadn’t already tried drugs at these points in my life, I certainly would have then. When someone tells me that they have never even had a drink, it makes me question if they have ever truly suffered. Maybe this is an awful thing to say, but it’s what I wonder about. There are certainly people I’ve met in my life that seem to have somehow escaped any encounters with that deep sadness that so many of us know well. Nothing seems to touch them. They have never been broken. In some ways I envy these people. Yet, in other ways, I almost pity them. Although it’s been painful to feel things as deeply as I have in the past, to suffer within the prison of my own mind, it has made me a fuller person. It has given me a bitter-sweet depth to life that I would not have found otherwise.

So I may be a jerk, totally misjudging people and creating false perceptions, but these are the things I can’t help but ponder when I meet someone who has managed to stay inside the bubble of sobriety all of their life. Naturally it makes me reflect on the reasons that hasn’t been the case for me. I am too curious. I have also at times been too desperate to try to relieve my suffering at any cost. Therefore, I end up questioning if these other people somehow lack those qualities/experiences. Or perhaps I am just lacking something. Maybe they simply have a stronger will, better coping mechanisms, a strong social supports. I’ll probably never know. Regardless of the reasons behind it, I do know that I will never be able to feel fully understood by these types of people. Whatever it may be, we have a fundamental difference that divides our worlds.

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For some reason I have been feeling extra anxious today. It may have something to do with the fact that today is going to be slightly different than my normal, copy and paste days. I have been looking forward to today, but now that it has arrived I feel frazzled. All I want is to go home and go back to sleep.

I’ve noticed that whenever I have one of these particularly anxiety filled days that my mind races endlessly over possible ways to escape. Are there substances I could use to distract myself? Is there anyway I can go to sleep? Should I just make up an excuse to go home? Is there something I can think about that will take my mind elsewhere? As I inevitably realize none of my options will satisfy me, I get more and more distressed. My insides wind more and more tightly.

I know the real answer is breathing, sitting with these feelings, accepting where I am right now. But this seems impossible. I resist this solution vehemently. There has to be some way to get away. Even though I know there’s not. I feel trapped. I feel helpless. I feel disgusted with myself. Why do I feel this way? Why can’t I escape? Why is it so hard to let go, to surrender?

None of the brilliant coping mechanisms I have at my disposal seem adequate on days like today. I detest this obstinate headspace. I hate that I am always wishing my life away. Trying to kill time. Waiting for things to be different. Waiting for some imagined sweet spot of happiness that never comes.

I want to be happy. I want to be held. I want to sleep. I want to escape.