Mood:
crushed outNow Playing: ...
Topic: Between a Rock...
BETWEEN A ROCK and a hard place...
When I haven't got it I think of little else... When it's there I find myself wanting more.
Remember that song from a few years back: The Drugs Don't Work? It's a feeling I know too well.
When I talk of wanting more I don't mean more drugs. I know there isn't a drug in the world that's going to answer my craving ——. A craving for what?
I'm rarely lost for words, but I can't name what I most desire. Maybe we're all like that. Maybe I've just pushed myself further than most in certain respects. And maybe most people don't even know they want this nameless wordless thing. Who knows?
Now I admit it here. — I can be exceptionally lazy. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person. When I do set out to do something I get such a bee in my bonnet it obsesses me night and day. E.g. You should see how many Confessions I have scrawled in my notebook and not posted!
At times past in the most intense period of my addiction I was so intent on using-scoring-raising money to score I thought of little else. I stopped daydreaming. I stopped planning anything except when I was going to go out and start raising money.The future meant nothing to me. My life reduced to the 24-hour cycle of day-in day-out using. I was living with someone who was extremely challenging to be with. I blocked this person out; I blocked out most of life in the process.
My addiction was all-consuming. You could say it nearly consumed me.
Nowadays I try to cultivate interests. To read good books. (Wordsworth do a fantstic range of £1.99 Classics — my current read is Anna Karenina alternating with Lord of the Rings.) I love poetry. I love animals. I love my pet Chinese Mouse. (He's actually a cricitulus griseus Chinese hamster but he looks just like a little fieldmouse. His name is Harvey: Harvey the Chinese Harvest Mouse. He sleeps up my sleeve sometimes and doesn't want to come out. He is washing his ears by my elbow as I speak...
Must go now. I want some Jaffa Cakes. L8Rs, Gleds .
