Drugs Bunny

So, I’ve been totally slack with OD lately. Not that I needed to tell you that. I haven’t posted, not that this has been an unusual delay for me in general, but I haven’t caught up on my favorites or noted/RYNd anybody either. I’d like to say that I’ve been too busy to log in, but really, compared to most of your lives, I have a pretty languorous lifestyle, so if I knew how to feel guilt, I might feel bad about saying that. =) But yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been emotionally busy. I’ve had a couple of weeks where doing almost anything seems like too much effort. Not in a bad way though, like that other time when I was all "Oohh, life is too hard!" and so on. More just, I’m taking things reeeeally easy, and doing as little in the way of effort as I have to. =)

But yes, I want it on the record that I still heart all of yous, or whatever. I’ll catch up on your diaries over tonight and the next couple of days, post my RYNs, and so on. It’s all good. =)

So anyways, I think I’m becoming a drug addict.

Last week, I had an oxycodone a day, and felt fine. One day I started feeling the pain through the meds, as does happen sometimes, so I took two oxys. It made almost no difference, so I realized it was time to get off them for a little while and give my body time to readjust so they work again when I need them. This, it may surprise you, is not uncommon for me. I usually go on and off hardcore narcotics that most people find dangerously addictive, quite easily. I used to joke that I could smoke crack recreationally and not turn into a junkie. But yeah.

So, I took no oxys that following day, and damn did I come down hard. The withdrawal from oxy is distinctly unsexy. It’s not the most foul come down I’ve ever heard of, but it’s pretty gross. Enough to ruin a night’s sleep, at the least. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of me. Now I can pretty much grit my teeth and see it through. If nothing else, you know it’s just your body getting itself clean again, so you just see it through with satisfaction.

However, that next day, after I got clean, was intolerable. My pain came back in such full force that I couldn’t sit straight. Usually when I get off the meds, things just go back to uncomfortable, but this time, it was agony.

By bedtime, I knew I wasn’t going another day without my oxy unless I was forced to. Of course I couldn’t take one then or I wouldn’t sleep again, and those of you for whom this isn’t a first time read, will know that for me, sleep comes before everything else. So I slapped on a spare buprenorphine transdermal patch I had laying around instead. These things never do anything for me, but I figured it couldn’t do any worse than not putting one on. And then this morning when I woke up (two hours early, to snipe an eBay auction, haha!), I took my oxy, and now I’m feeling sweeeeet again.

So yeah. Smack my ass and call me crackhead, I think I’m an addict. I mean, I’m not chemically addicted, but if I can’t go a day without taking drugs, it’s all the same thing in the end, isn’t it? If I need to be chemically altered to function on a daily basis, I might as well be a junkie. Hmph.

My buddies are addicts, too. My best friend is a total pothead. Not that he can’t go without it – much like me, there’s not much he can’t just deal without if he has to – but when he gets it, he lives off it. He just got a new job, has to get up at like 7AM and work through a full day, and he’s been going to bed like 8-9PM at the latest because it’s a very physical job. So, his first paycheck comes in, and he buys a quarter ounce of bag weed. First smoke he’s had in months, for financial reasons.

That first night, he gets fucked up, stays up until 5AM, and sleeps in until the late afternoon. Hahah. Lucky it wasn’t a work night.

He’s talking about a promotion, management positions, pay rises, etc., but I give it three months tops until he’s back on welfare. This guy does jobs the way I do women. He goes in guns blazing enthusiastic, does great for a couple of months, then loses interest, stops caring, stops trying, then screws it up, quits or gets fired, and then goes for several years without work before repeating the process.

Another buddy is a total lush now, he can’t even go to bed without like, seven beers. He doesn’t often get sloppy drunk, so I use the term lush instead of drunkard, but yeah, he seems very dependent on beer lately. Beer in the morning, beer in the evening. Beer on weekdays, beer on weekends. So much beer. He shits blood, too. I keep telling him to see a doctor about that.

So yeah, we three musketeers of addiction. Snow White and the Three Addicted Dwarves – Smokey, Drinky, and Prescription Painkillersey. What a group we make.

So my doc, as uselessly baffled as I am about my unexplainable pains, has put me on a new drug that’s just come on the market, an anti-inflammatory. It’s called lumiracoxib (say that five times fast!). So right now, I have an oxycodone, a lumiracoxib, a buprenorphine transdermal patch, and a bourbon and cola in me. Damned if I don’t feel a hell of a lot better than yesterday!

In other news, would you believe I had another wet dream last night? And unlike the last one I wrote about here, this one was well and truly both wet, and a dream. Actually I had enough conscious control, again, to choke it off like last time, but this time I thought, what the hell, I’m only young once. I at least had the presence of mind to roll over so I wouldn’t have to change the sheets, but my poor boxer shorts were not so lucky.

One more of those and I will have officially had as many in my twenties as I ever had in my teens. Stupid weird body.

I don’t really have much more to say. Have been playing a bit of StarCraft lately. I remember it used to take me weeks or months to play through that game. This time I played the Terran campaign in a day, the Zerg campaign in a day, and I got halfway through Protoss before I started to struggle to stay interested. I’ll probably still have it wrapped up in under a week though.

Today I bought a new duvet cover, an amethyst turtle, and a tiny glass bottle full of even tinier amethyst pieces. Sometimes my mother gets surprised when she remembers I’m a boy. Three hours ago, we were in a lingerie store together while she shopped for g-strings. A moment ago she rang and asked me if I’d tried on the shirt I bought today, I told her I hadn’t even taken it out of the bag yet. She says with amazement, "Oh, you’re such a boy!". I reply, "Yes, and believe it or not, I take pride in that fact! Besides if I wasn’t a boy, I’d be really confused and horrified about this whole penis thing dangling between my legs!". Sometimes I think she gets confused that a male canbe comfortable with and around women and not uncomfortable with women’s topics, and yet not need to put on tights and prance around to the soundtrack of Rent.

Oh, and last bit of news – my business is having a record month for profit this month. Granted, I’m still running massively in the red, but still, it’s a novelty that I’m making less negative money than ever before now! If these figures keep up, one of my fifty domains will actually be a profitable project! But yeah, I won’t go into too much detail, since only Amanda ever expressed any interest in learning what I do for a living. The rest of you whores are still waiting for my pic. >=P

Anyways, I’m out of words. Will catch up on my meets and greets soon, promise.