hurdles, emotions, not relapsings

Preston Peet ptpeet at nyc.rr.com
Sun Oct 1 17:42:06 EDT 2006


Damn it. Break ups suck so fucking much.
They have to be one of the leading causes of drug abuse relapsing, if how I 
feel almost all day every fucking day is any indication.
That's not to say I am relapsing, I'm not, as amazed as I myself am at 
finding this.
My resolve seems so cemented as of late, but still, my heart fucking hurts 
so damned much, and we (V and I) have pretty damned near completely lost the 
ability to really communicate with one another, after a ten year run. How 
the fuck that can happen to two people who have always spoken of 
"unconditional" love (a fucking illusion if there even was one I've finally 
realized, no matter how happy I can be for however long- it's NEVER going to 
last)?
I would take all the blame and say it was my drug abuse patterns that lead 
to this, but interestingly, I do not (personally) think this is the entire 
story.
It appears to me that V is a bit upset that I have managed to accomplish a 
few things, at least, accomplish things I set out to accomplish and 
succeeded in doing so, even though of the two of us I'm the "fuck-up." This, 
I theorize anyway, has left her with this feeling of frustration and anger, 
since she is not a fuck-up (according to the "normal" definition I suppose) 
and yet is reaching an age in her life where she feels she should be doing 
more/already have been doing more with her life and hasn't managed to. Yet 
she sees me, the freakouter, really doing things and it bothers the hell out 
of her.
I guess.
I mean, yes, my drug abuse was NOT a help at all, and if I 
could/shoulda/woulda go back and do it differently, I'd LIKE to think I 
would. But would I? Didn't I know exactly where I was going to end up by 
fucking up as I did? So if that's true, why the hell does it hurt so much 
when it actually happens? And would things really have turned out 
differently had I not gone that route to begin with? Isn't it entirely 
possible she'd have reached a point where she felt she had to be her own 
seperate person unrelationshipped on her own without my doing anything 
"wrong" anyway?
Anyway, despite all this pain and heartache, I'm still managing, through all 
the roller-coaster ride of emotions and sadness (tears come pouring outta me 
out of fucking nowhere all too often, as do stupid freakin' fights and 
arguments with V), to maintain my resolve at not taking out my sadness and 
frustration on myself in negative fashion, prefering to simply keep plodding 
ahead now. It's really weird, but why is it almost always when it's too 
damned late to really keep/attain those things I really want once I manage 
to reach a stage where it WOULD be possible if it weren't too damned late?
And how much of these feelings are "addiction" to the relationship itself? I 
admit to having serious abandonment issues (taken out of a family at the age 
of five when they'd "adopted" me at three- the mom of the family telling me 
the night before I was taken away by a social worker that, "hey, we just 
can't keep you Preston, so you're leaving tomorrow, and good luck in life," 
then getting kicked out of my next adopted family's house half way through 
my last year of high school, and then having a variety of relationships fail 
too), and all these events in my life have all put a great big dent in me in 
ways I find hard to explain but am totally aware of and consciously fear, 
and have in turn themselves lead me to taking out my 
frustrations/fears/anger/sadness on myself- always a stupid idea but one I'm 
pretty good at, or at least always was pretty good at.
I seriously wonder how much my taking ibogaine is helping me right now. I 
honestly am going through a very strange and unsettled time and really do 
think a lot about just taking a fucking leap out my window at my blacker 
moments, when I realize that once again I've somehow reached a stage in a 
relationship where it doesn't appear I'll ever be able to fix it or get to a 
better stage again, that my "other half" has thrown in the towel- and it 
fucking hurts sooooo much, sooooo deeply.
But I'm not abusively using in the slightest, still taking the barest 
minimum of painkillers to help me deal with physical pain- not once picking 
up even one extra pill or a rig since this "we are not a couple" decision 
was reached by V, and my own hesitant on again/off again agreement to this 
took place. I just can't do that to myself anymore, it has made things that 
much harder than they ever need to be. I think I've finally reached that 
place where the fatigue and sadness is just too damned much to take and too 
counterproductive to where I want to be.
Damn it, I'm just venting cause I feel so fucking bad, and don't go (nor do 
I want to go) to meetings or a shrink or really anywhere where I want to, or 
even could really, open up like this to people. I'd rather just pretend 
everything is cool, but can't even manage to do that all the time- finding 
myself babbling at people who probably couldn't care less all too often too 
or at friends who've already heard about it- but not nearly to the extent I 
am here now.
I guess I just needed to get this off my chest in some manner.
It's such a gorgeous day today, and I went out all night to a 
goth/industrial/fetish all night "rave" of sorts last night with literally 
hundreds, if not a couple thousand dark, droopy gothy people (felt like 
heaven at times, helped by a small dose of shrooms- LOL! At least, when I 
wasn't suddenly find myself verging on feeling irritated or sad and would 
have to force myself to stop doing it to myself, to keep my happy mask on 
and not let on that I feel so fucking awful inside- and I can't help but 
think this must radiate out to any and all around me, particularly the 
opposite sex, despite how my friends all tell me how well I'm handling 
things- which is a fucking laugh even if true to a degree), practicing being 
single because I keep thinking this might help, if I find someone to 
distract me for even just one night, and give me a different perspective on 
things and help me feel less ugly/loser/pathetic, particularly since 
recently finding out V did it to me to various degrees more than once over 
the past year and a half- and the only freakin' people who approached me to 
compliment/hit on/talk to me, for the most part anyway, were men- What the 
hell is that all about? On the other hand it seemed like any woman I was 
even slightly interested in approaching or did approach to talk to had a 
freakin' boyfriend with them (which only helped me feel worse, seeing all 
these happy loving dancing fucking couples, when I can't even reach out to 
touch the woman I love nor go out with her more than once in a blue moon in 
public because it's just to painful for us both).  I am so lonely and mad at 
myself AND at her.
blah fucking blah.
Sorry to clog these two lists with this crap, but I hurt and don't want to 
add to it by screwing myself over with more self-abuse. So I'm trying out 
the "talking" thing with people who can chose to delete this if they don't 
feel like listening/reading rather than doing it out loud to some friend 
who's already heard it more than thrice recently.
Nice day/night to all.

-----
"America is not so much a nightmare as a non-dream.
The American non-dream is precisely a move to wipe
the dream out of existence.
The dream is a spontaneous happening and
therefore dangerous to a control system set up by
the non-dreamers."
William S. Burroughs
----
Peace, love, and respect,
Preston

ptpeet at nyc.rr.com
Author "Something in the Way"
Editor "Underground- The Disinformation Guide to Ancient Civilizations, 
Astonishing Archeology and Hidden History"
Editor "Under the Influence- the Disinformation Guide to Drugs"
Editor http://www.drugwar.com
Cont. High Times mag/.com
Cont. Editor http://www.disinfo.com
Columnist New York Waste
Etc. 




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