Remember that time I went to detox?..oh wait,few people would. No time like the present!

I’ll spare you the whole story. We’ll save that for another day,it wouldn’t be helpful for anyone to get bullet point version of a journey. No friends. I’ll start, with my journal entries from the day before,as well as my time there in. Aug,2013. I’m a very open person,to open. Filterless really; However, for eleven years my journals have been the one thing I guarded like the Crown Jewels. Rip off the band-aid. Down the rabbit hole.

Aug,20,2013- ” Where do I begin? Better yet, When did I become the shell of the girl I once was that I now see. That is,when I can work up the courage to even look in a mirror. Who is this girl? This utterly selfish,broken person. That’s not me,none of this can be real. I’m happy,bubbly,loving. This girl? I used people,people used me. I tried harder than most,and failed bigger than many.”

Aug,22,2013-” So I’ve been here for two hours. When my admitting was being done(an epic ballad length questionare), All I could hear was the ticking hands of the clock above the door. Each tick sounding like the clicking of a camera taking snap shots. Flashing in my mind frames of time, my whole lifetime. What line did I cross or do that got me here? Which wrong turn? Which wrongly prescribed pill? As if it was that simple. No, MANY things I did, didn’t do, people, places. All led me to this place,where I need and want to be. Just me. Real, raw, no crutch stripped down me.  Who am I really? I’m a girl who has balls of steel,yet more anxious than I have enough ink to write.  I’m loyal and trusting to a fault. I love unconditionaly,even when I’m the one who gets hurt. I hate seeing others in pain ,so much to the point that I feel their pain. I’m hard headed and stubborn as an ox. I’m an idealist and a dreamer,and always need to get burned before I beleive the stove is hot.”

STILL Aug,22,2013-” congrats lace, First breakdown under your belt. Fuck. Eight hours without a smoke(pretty sure this no smoking rule is to weed out people..just saying), A fetal position panic attack and I am ready to rip out my own lungs, and suck out the nicotine .Im avoiding people for their,as well as my own safety,because I truly could rip someone’s face off right now. My room? Fuck. It’s so white,( I despise white sterile and uncortable),and you can tell this used to be a school. These settings always make me feel trapped and anxious. The blankets are thin and would better tissues,than a heating source. The dentistry/Hospital smell,the commercial standard pink soap. I literally feel like I could puke. This really is a manipulative,debilitating illness. The most charming deceitful sickness.”

Aug,23,2013-” Worst sleep ever. I kept having dreams that I was anywhere but here. I woke up to super low blood pressure. That was sorted. than the nurses(who as shit as this place is are absolute saints) told  me they finally understood why I wasn’t showing normal signs or withdrawal after counting how how many Ativan I went through,compared to the date they were prescribed. No,no you wouldn’t see text book signs of withdrawal,considering the worst of it was spent in my bed,popping Ativan like pez candies,to keep some shred of sanity while I had to wait a week to get in here. Trade one demon for another though. Coming of benzos isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. First time I even heard of them,I was given them by my doctor,for severe panic attack(like fainting panic attacks) I used them as directed. I didn’t realize how high of a tolerance I had until soon after. I was 21. My ex ————– was on a three day crack bender. A few weeks before he had a seizure from the same thing, so I gave him a couple and put him to bed. He woke up,seventeen hours later asking how the hell I functioned. It was normal to me,by this time they didn’t really work the same mentally. Physically three years later,without them. My body is in spasms,my flesh is turning inside out. I want to puke,cry and jump out a window”

There really isn’t a way to finish this. Like I said,it’s a longer story than one entry and it doesn’t have an end. It’s going to be something I deal everyday. It coincides with other issues I will get into later. THE POINT,I wanted others who may not know,or get it. Who have a loved one or some altered idea of what it’s like to know what went on in my mind. Like a play by play. 


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