I often evaluate my current situation and compare myself to the image I have in my mind as a typical drug user. I always think my image to the outside world is not one of a junkie. I don’t want to be a typical drug addict. I’m always careful to use the word user instead of addict.
Then on days like today, in between hits getting me higher, I look around at the room where I live and realize I am more like the drug users in the movies or the news.
I’m basically a homeless druggie getting high everyday staying in a friend’s spare bedroom. I have lost my normal middle class life years ago.
I live like a slob, and barely leave my bed for days at a time. During COVID-19 lockdown, living without a car or income, I leave my home less than once a month.
My prescription to Paxil keeps me from feeling bad about all of this. I don’t hate my life. It’s all a story, and most days I accomplish things.
I move at glacial speeds. Slow changes that I’m hoping over time make a difference.
I’ll be fine. I’m self aware and life doesn’t suck. It just isn’t as good as it could be really easily, but I can’t seem to figure it out.