I got played again and this time I ended up taking pure oxycodone, 3 pills, and let’s acknowledge I’m 115 pounds. I got to a bad place where there was uncontrollable crying and I felt like I was going to give up completely because there were so many things going wrong in my life… I can’t believe I actually took Oxycodone. wow. I truly did take it… I can’t believe someone could hurt me so deep to the point where I allow myself to relapse over some fucking OXYCODONE. HOW COULD I FUCKING DO THIS TO MYSELF?! Again and again and fucking again, repeatedly I’m fucking hurting myself, AND FOR WHAT? Because I couldn’t fucking handle what was going on?!
I need to get in a better place, I really do. I don’t need that shit, I don’t need to get hooked, I don’t need to risk my well-being for some stupid fuck that KNOWS WHAT HE HAS AND STILL RISKS IT.
I don’t want to be at school, I don’t want to be at home. I don’t want to be at work.
I seriously just want to go to a cabin where it always rains, ones where there’s a bunch of families going to the cabins and they’re all having a good time on the lake, and it starts getting late and it begins to rains and you hear the sounds of worry and watch people run into their cabins. I just want to go into mine, sit, watch out the window and read. Without any responsibility. Just until I get all of my motivation back.