nembutal
everything will be okay in the end
- Jul 14, 2022
- 334
currently on month 7 of a year and a half long recovery program in fucking israel. in march i was on track to acquiring fentanyl and overdosing. here i am taught that my brain tricks me into self destruction and sabotage in order to lead me towards the grave. i have seen people come in broken on month one and completely revitalized and full of a willingness to live and succeed on month 6. i am not one of the success stories here. during month 3-4 i pretended that i wanted life, worked hard on recovery based assignments and participated fully. reality slowly kicked in and i realized my brain sees no intrinsic purpose in recovering and continued existence. they dont allow any medications in here, they dont even allow energy drinks. i was in my best states of mind on prescribed medication for my diagnoses. they tell me here that if i wanted to die so badly i would have already done it by now. their entire perspective on psychiatry is skewed, and they dont understand that some cannot function properly without the help of substances.
in december im being transferred to a halfway house in florida where ill have to larp a mentally stable person for another 6 months. im missing use every single day. my drug of choice never phased me and even after overdosing and being revitalized by my now dead boyfriend, who ODed himself, i hoped and prayed my next dose would kill me. i was tired and i still am. but dealing with these emotions sober, knowing that there exist no comforters other than drugs, is excruciatingly painful. if a 6 month long intensive therapy program didnt cure me, i dont know what will. and what i feel bad for the most is the thousands my mother spent in a last attempt to salvage me. its fucked all over, and i cant wait until i get back to the states and have the financial resources to kickstart my attempt again.
in december im being transferred to a halfway house in florida where ill have to larp a mentally stable person for another 6 months. im missing use every single day. my drug of choice never phased me and even after overdosing and being revitalized by my now dead boyfriend, who ODed himself, i hoped and prayed my next dose would kill me. i was tired and i still am. but dealing with these emotions sober, knowing that there exist no comforters other than drugs, is excruciatingly painful. if a 6 month long intensive therapy program didnt cure me, i dont know what will. and what i feel bad for the most is the thousands my mother spent in a last attempt to salvage me. its fucked all over, and i cant wait until i get back to the states and have the financial resources to kickstart my attempt again.