Humanit-ease

I’ve been fucking crazy.

I’m going crazy, and I know it, and I’m doing everything in my power to undermine the natural progression of insanity. I’m dumping emotionally on people, having lunch with retired drug and alcohol counselors, and doing my best to fucking make it through each day as it comes. I’m getting more and more stressed out though, and it’s getting to a point where I’m actually getting scared for the future. I just got a shit ton of money for student loans, I’m approaching 8 months, and I’m in academics. All of these things are precursors to relapse of some sort. I’m in unknown territory.

I thought that after I dealt with unfamiliar shit that I’d get to experience the familiar again! This isn’t exactly what I signed up for!

I should probably journal more. This is a good way for me to reconnect with myself, my inner self that kind of knows what’s up. That’s how I’m going to work all of this other shit out. I’m gonna write about it.

Wow. That’s a pretty easy solution, but the moment I came to it, I kind of relaxed. That’s a good sign. I have probably the best social system I’ve ever had, and I have an amazing situation for school. I’m so lucky, and grateful.

I skipped two classes last week. Lets see if I can get through this week without skipping any classes. That would make me so fucking happy and proud if, on friday, I could genuinely say ‘I fucking went to every one of my classes’ I can get behind the anticipation of that feeling something fierce. I just have to figure out how to reprime it occasionally throughout the week.

My Health Psychology is basically rehab, only where they don’t crush the pill up and put it into pudding. It’s basically all the shit that they told me about – and, somehow I’ve done it. All of it, almost. I fucking eat breakfast, try to sleep 8 hours a night, don’t smoke, don’t drink, at or slightly above target weight, don’t eat in between meals (this is the one I’m working on), exercise, journal, be in awe, meditate. ALL OF THAT SHIT. Fuck, man. I’m doing pretty damn well. I guess sometimes I just like to scare myself or something. Maybe my old neural nets got a hold of one train or something, and that’s why I was so stressed out these past few hours.

I definitely need to write more. I have all of these thought that are swirling around in my head, and all of these cool turns of expression that I fucking crafted in my genius, and I can’t remember any of them for the life of me. I want to start to get some of that shit written down.

I am also starting to act as a little bit of a support for other people. By breaking down and asking them for help, I’m humbling myself, and by extension, kind of endearing myself to them. I am also responding to them when they reach out for my help. this is a good place to be. this is a very good place to be. I am starting to write this shit not so much for you, Chris, but for me. For my sanity. I am my own fucking drug and alcohol counselor.

This is a text message I just received.

“You are not alone even when there is no one around. You are the latest edition of a 3.5 billion year life force. There is wisdom in you you’ll never measure. And it intends your success. Trust it a little, and you will notice its strength. Drugs fuck this relationship up, so you may need some experimental time to find the path”

How fucking awesome is that shit? I mean, for real? How is that for a fucking amazing pep talk!

J-