Cocaine. Coke. Yay. Snow. I would think of more names but at this point I haven't slept in two days and I'm disappointed in myself....once again. I promise myself that each time will be my last time. And then tomorrow rolls around. And it begins again. I remember when I used to do it occasionally for a thrill....a fun high. I just can't remember when it turned into this. This being: eleven days clean....the longest I've gone so far without this ugly dirty thing, followed by a overwhelming binge. Apathy about everything. Finding myself in places I don't want to be. Being with people I shouldn't be with. Lying to friends to cover my tracks. Telling them that I WANT to quit. That I DID quit. Avoiding friends. Making new "friends." But mostly, just sadness. Because it's not suppose to be like this. Because I'm not suppose to dread the daylight....it stings my eyes. Because I'm suppose to be able to put a spoonful of food into my mouth without feeling an overwhelming urge to wretch. Because I'm suppose to care about things. Because it shouldn't take all my energy to take a simple shower when I'm crashing. Covered with filth and sweat and everything else that dirty and degrading. It's such a vicious cycle.



