It’s nothing new to me,  as I have been a guy who apologizes a lot,  because I try so hard to please everyone with apologist and hope,  I generally speaking,  end up disappointing a lot of people.  It’s just the way I’ve grown up.

You’d think by this age,  I would have learned not to make so many promises up front,  or to stop making catch-up promises too.

Oh I’m sorry Mr.  Johnson,  I wasn’t able to get that thing done on time like I promised…  But I’ll dedicate tomorrow to it.

Sorry Mr.  Johnson…  I know we’re now in week 17 of delay.

I fail.  A lot.  More so in the past 5 years and especially this year.  The year when I merged failing and making excuses,  but under the influence of drugs.  More new reasons to fail and make excuses.

It’s 2:38 on a Friday and I’m in bed. My plans to quit this addiction Wednesday have been prolonged at least two extra days,  and I’ve just had to say I’m sorry to new people who I’ve not let down before.

I’m sorry it seems like I’m going to miss your wedding.

I’m sorry I missed your wedding.  I’m sorry it looks like I’m going to miss your reception,  and that big weekend event you planned 3 months ago with the costly tickets and back stage passes.

Really…  I’m sorry on so many levels.

I have not decided on what,  or how much I’ll tell them.  New friends are at higher risk to lose,  if I confess to being a crystal meth addict that is trying Tom quit on the weekend they needed me,  and the quitting is going poorly,  which is to say I have not quit yet and not even experienced the worst of the withdrawal.

Technically I could attend their event high,  and it would not be the first time I’ve played sober while high on meth.  In fact,  if I’m being totally honest,  and I try to be in these blogs…  I’m having difficulty believing it,  but in retrospect,  it is entirely possible I was high every day in July.

I house can’t decide if it’s better to b e up front and honest with close friends or continue to lie and tell my story a little less drastic. I am clearly not the symbol of a crystal meth user/addict that most less educated/experienced drug users would picture in their mind…  Or is it me that can’t see the parallels.

I always think of crack users and meth users one way, and that’s the way the media and movies display them. Homeless youth who have lost everything and are trading blow jobs for $20 worth of crystal. Dirty people wearing the same clothes for days,  and crackling voices spoken through yellow decaying teeth less mouths.

I am far from that,  and yet,  not so far from that.  I live in a dump I’m ashamed to show.  It could easily pass as the home of a drug addict.  Things are thrown everywhere and stay where they land sometimes for months.

This binge has scared me…  At least in the few moments between relieving that feeling by going up again,  like I did this morning.  Alas,  even the great confidence happy boosting super feeling that comes with more drug,  starts to fade after this much use.  You get high,  and you’re still lower than the norm.

TV addicts are always telling of the status of their lives saying they don’t use drugs to get high anymore.  Now they use drugs to be able to get out of bed and maintain.  I’m there today…  But with hope I can stay off,  deal through the time of hellish template and mood swings,  and return to the time –  which in my memory is now,  the Golden times of normality.

I’m actually quite happy and content with life without my recreational drugs these days.  That is the part that confuses the story. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had a streak of 4 days sober I think.

Before October when all this experimenting started.

So today I am sad.   Sad at failure,  sad at letting friends both old and new down. Sad that I let myself fall this far. If I had a job I could be fired from,  I may have lost it.  If I had a wife who could leave me,  she may have.

Of course,  if I had a job and a wife,  there is a very good chance I would not be in this place.  It’s the aloneness of work and evenings that is my black void.  My thinking and TV alone are not enough to fill the hours,  so I use drugs to change the way  think for the other hours.

…  And then,  when I found one I actually used as a tool to be a different kind of productive,  I went a little overboard before I noticed it was happening.

I started using it to stay off the effects of not using it.  Last week,  merged into this week,  I used it pretty much every day.

It’s caught up.  Like an air conditioner on a hot day,  there are pockets of cool and hot in my moods,  and I bark at people,  or overreact in ways that are certainly not familiar to me.  I even cried in front of somebody.

It needs to stop.  It needed to stop Wednesday…  But in the cloudy haze of my mind,’s power to justify things,  I probably sabotaged myself to force a cancelation.  To Make people mad at me and feel a stronger shame than normal.

It’s all a blur.  3pm now and I could still go. The effects of the meth from noon are just right.  The sweat has passed and I could probably perform the role of Jeff quite well.

And then sleep for three days.  No mine meth.  I’m in for a storm I’m so afraid of,  I kept putting it off another day.

Moment of self hate.  Probably common among those in my position.  Certainly many have not been able to quit.  Those solves downtown on the streets with faces of continued use. Many probably have the same stories.

I’m hoping I won’t be one. My friends will not shun me,  and be supportive when I rejoin the fold on my own personality again. Smiles and jokes and answering the phone.

I miss the old Jeff.  Maybe I’ll wake up in him by Monday.

Or…  Wednesday is the new Monday.

At 3:02pm Friday,  I’ll lay my head down again.  We’ll see how long I stay there before writing another “sorry”  blog.

End of Part 1

Post Revisions: