It’s 1:30am on a Friday Night – Saturday morning.
I’m having trouble falling asleep tonight. At first I was staying up late to catch the new Saturday Night Live bit by 10:30, I figured out it was still Friday. I tossed and turned a bit in bed until the bed bugs started gaining my attention. Now it’s 1:30 and I’m in the inconvenient mindset… Read More »

It’s 1:30am on a Friday Night – Saturday morning.

I’m having trouble falling asleep tonight. At first I was staying up late to catch the new Saturday Night Live bit by 10:30, I figured out it was still Friday. I tossed and turned a bit in bed until the bed bugs started gaining my attention.

Now it’s 1:30 and I’m in the inconvenient mindset where I start to think it won’t happen. A self fulfilling prophecy of one night.

I’m a little anxious about Sunday and to a lesser extent, Saturday as well. On Saturday, my friend Daniel may be visiting with his daughter. It’s a fun combo. The three of us do well together with some degree of matching humour and interests.

We have no plans set and we just do stuff. It’s a chance to get out of my house and be social. Interaction with them and others for a day is a much needed and appreciated escape. I am feeling a bit guilty this time because it’s so close to the last time we met and my brain creates the anxiety that I might not be fun, or that they feel a need to be my only link to the outside world.

Knowing that “probably” isn’t the case is tough to believe. Luckily it vanished in the moment as most of my pre-interaction stress does. I love being around people. It’s the time prior to it I waste worrying.

Sunday I plan to make my way to Toronto by train and spend a chunk of money on replenishing my drug stash. I went 3 or 4 months without and now I’ll return to 3 orc4 months with again. There are several topics to stress over concerning that decision.

I have resolved the expenditure with no guilt. It’s a justifiable savings and built in tolerance break between using this way.

Life without hasn’t been too bad. I started blogging more and feeling some creativity return but my brain has convinced me that I will be happier and more productive back on that routine. The change is subtle to me, and I believe nearly — if not totally invisible to my housemate, except for the drastic change in body odour.

It’s stressing me out because I’ve settled in on a mild aroma but the change is undeniable, especially if I maintain my schedule of not bathing or showering with any consistency.

Staying a stealth user will mean a big lie again and this time with no plausible excuse or back story. One day soon, my stink will be noticable and I’ll be confronted.

That should be a reason to not engage in this adventure at all. The strict house rule of no meth use might be a deal breaker. He’s already considering quitting his day job which wears him down. Once the 95 minute commute is extended by snow traffic and morning scraping and clearing time, he may just quit, and licking me out may be what tips the scales because he’ll need to stay home to feed and care for the animals himself.

I try to convince myself this is self created anxiety and worry but it was a year ago when he did exactly that. He’s worked long enough to get some cash, buy some backlog luxuries and hate life. Quitting gets in your head like a virus and grows until you can’t take it anymore.

I’ve been there. I’ve lived in a job I wanted out of where it became the primary thought in my head both during work hours and at home as well. Smelling my meth odour could be what triggers the change.

I day I could quit if pressed with an ultimatum but I also know I’ll cheat and try to get away with it. It’s what I did last time.

He hasn’t directly connected the B.O. to meth use yet, but if it starts up again after my Sunday trip to Toronto, I’m certain he’ll put two and two together and it will add up to an angry outburst of mistrust.

I’ve just made my anxiety worse by blogging my thoughts. I’ll still play it out and see what happens. This is how I make change in my life. I do things I’m not supposed to do and the universe forces change. Maybe this time I’ll be homeless for real, or find a new and better next chapter in my awesome and varied life story.

To be continued…

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