If I’m lucky, I’m timid, nervous and scared, but there’s no pain. I’m lucky if I mong out
If I’m unlucky, the above feelings are followed with crushing blows, the pain tearing through me. Unlucky I get depressed and sad
Whether physical or mental.
At least this confirms my existence.
Because sometimes I feel like an empty soul, wondering in a world where she shouldn’t be... unable to see the light and reach happiness.
The pain confirms I am alive. The pain I feel thanks to my family reminds me I am alive
Otherwise, in his presence, I no longer feel joy, motivation, confidence and hope. I no longer plan the future. It’s easier not to think about the future. A couple of weeks max, is all I can manage. I used to feel motivated. Happy on crack. Do the above. Now I just sit here miserable
Even that’s a struggle. Will my mood slip... will he remind me of the years of abuse I have endured.. will I resist the temptation I swallow every single pill I own... a plethora of controlled medications I have obtained illegally, plus my own deadly beta blockers.
He used to be the reason to wake up. My first and last thought. We’d meet. Spend the night basking in the warm glow of love. The following day the love hangover would keep me feeling like life was worth living, for another few days. Until we met again. When I first tried crack and brown. You don’t get dope sick for 3 day’s. So there’s no pain when accustomed to coke, pills and suffering next day
Nothing was too challenging with him. Crack calmed me, I tidied and organised. No anxiety. No depression. I was normal. Worked on crack for a year. No one had a clue
Nothing impossible.
It was perfect.
Until he moved in. Addicted
I knew he was a bad boy. I knew others would disapprove. So this meant lies... I couldn’t cope with another lecture... more concerned faces... hearing the same old sound track. So, rather £100 of crack and smack a day, I’d say £20/40 of coke x2 maybe x3 a week
‘No, no, no, he’s not like that anymore’
‘No, it’s not serious, we just have fun’
‘I only see him twice a week, he’s not taking over’
‘He’s not controlling me’ denying my addiction
Soon the late nights took their toll. I lost weigh. I also lost a bit of me I know I will never get back.
No longer pleasurable, he was using me. Finally realised I was addicted
I’m certainly not stupid. I knew this. But, he had poisoned my mind. He was twisted and manipulative. He told me I would not survive without him. Like a mantra. Again and again. Until I believed him.
He drained my finances. Well aware my good credit rating, meant easy access to credit and loans. Every time he demanded more, I simply stuck my card in the cash machine, and never answered yes to the question about checking my balance. Spending £20k on crack and heroin
Then one day, the whirl of the machine did not commence. My card was spat back out, with disgust. Yes I know a machine cannot have human feelings, but when it dispensed cash and I would be eager to quickly retrieve my card, and return to him, it felt as if my card was returned in slow motion.
When it was decline, not only was it spat out at speed, but it bleeped several times in succession, alerting the queue of people, I had no funds.
Hanging my head in shame, I returned to my car and then him. I knew this meant I would be punished.
And I was.
Never completely battered. Just constantly... little things. Causing aches that seeped through to my bones. Then, there was the sleep deprivation. Sleep and food. Forcing me to swallow laxatives, my tummy, already too small, quickly emptied of all susbstance. Withdrawal
Unable to work, I tossed and turned in bed. I’m vain I endeavoured to ignore my suffering.
By day 3, I crumbled. He would make me suffer forever unless he was content. Desperate phone calls, frantically made, when finally I managed to borrow some money. Getting subutex
I quickly drove to collect this. And the minute it touched my hand, a sense of relief went through my fingers, up my arms and radiated through my whole body.
I drove home, calm, cool and collected.
We’d be friends again. No longer withdrawal
But not for long.
Eventually, the negativity of having no money, caused his departure. Went on opiate replacement meds
But not completely. And I doubt if I’ll ever be free.
You see, he’s the ying to my yang. My life gets so chaotic and hyper alone. He provides a well needed break from the negative. My adhd gets so bad, I’m
Scared I’ll kill myself without my moments of serenity
Without him, I speed up so much, it’s relentless, exhausting. 36 years would not been achieved without this oxymoronic prerequisite. Equal to air, sleep and food. Life would be impossible without him.
And I know that is a fact. The abuse
The anxiety and depression would have terminated my existence many years ago without him.
I know he no longer evokes any positive feelings, in fact, he evokes negative. Sadness, anger and depression.
But... he still gives my head a needed break. From my ADHD
I hate him.
I’m scared to live without him.
Reliance has been deeply embedded within my psyche. Drugs calm me down and help me get over my abuse and deal with the current abuse
Flash backs to September 2016 are far too frequent. Recalling my behaviour becoming more and more psychotic, during a 3 week trip away from him. Stopping all drugs and anti psyches too quickly
Yet... yet... I know I can live without him. Drugs
When I am safe, and I trust my environment. I know I can be happy. Slowly we’d see each other less and less. 300 miles away from abusers
But the fear keeps me trapped. He knows that. I am stuck. Stop using. Their abuse affects me too much. Me = suicide
My body is littered with the permanent marks he bestowed upon me. It’s too late to fully recover. Tracks
And I’ve been left with too little... to fully recover.
But I will escape. Be safe. And eventually escape.
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