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Ahhh.. chocolate returns to start the day.

Daily Drug Journal (Video), Drug Posts

Ahhh.. chocolate returns to start the day.

I don’t remember falling asleep last night but it must haven been reasonably quickly. I opened my eyes 10 minutes ago and rolled over to see my orange clock. It wà 5:45am. A bit earlier than I prefer but I’ve learned not to risk going back for the second sleep at this caused weird dreams and a very groggy morning. Still, I did close my eyes and lay motionless for a while recapping the two angry angry dreams I had during the night.

Angry dreams are rare for me. I’m glad to have them in my dreams instead of my day life.they are easier to dismiss without spoiling my mood for hours, or the whole day. I suppress my anger in real life. I’ve gotten good enough to boast; I don’t get angry  I understand it. The most I will admit to is frustration. When the universe or the creatures within it are not responding to what I consider logical,, or when things are not going as planned in my head, I get frustrated with myself or the situation and that can lead towards anger before I realize it. I can almost always calm myself down before losing it.

I count two times in my life I lost control and freaked out  so much so that those stories are what remind me I don’t want to do that again. Anger is an ugly scary monster within us and that loss of control is so terrifying I learned it is just easier to shut it down by understanding it 

I have almost forgotten the dreams. Back to back with an evaluating pee break in between.i am pleased to wake myself up with a chocolate bar today. It was lacking yesterday and it was on my mind throughout the day in a strange way. As I became aware of it at random points in a conversation or just a moment of inner though I felt different in an unexplainable way. I suppose it was similar to what you might describe as a craving, but I knew I was shopping and would have it soon so it wasn’t so much a craving desire as an overall lacking feeling.

In any case, it’s now 6:15 am and I have consumed more than half of it while typing this and not officially started my other morning regulars. Time for water, my pill and the decision making about smoking. I feel awake so I could try to do without 


I have configured the morning portion of my life around my bed. I don’t need to get out of it until I’m ready to start my chores. I have fresh bottled water and my snacks and bong all within reach. Because my teeth sit overnight in a bedside cup, the morning rinse gets rid of the entire morning bathroom regimen everyone else endures. I stay in bed till the last minute contemplating my drug use each morning.

Each morning I make the choice to blow those clouds again. My daily use is not officially part of the routine I think to myself. I choose it over and over because I enjoy its effect and benefit from the clarity, focus and productivity that it allows. I choose not to stress over what it may or may not be doing to me, with the same instant gratification justification that all addicts cling to. The benefits are NOW and the downside is thrown into the worry like of tomorrow Jeff’s problem. 

Tomorrow I repeat this internal mantra and each day I put off the bad thoughts to tomorrow is a win for today. I say I’m not addicted if I choose to do the thing. I convinced myself an addict has no choice. I have proven I can do without. I just like myself, and my life much more if I don’t. This fits in with my personal logic well enough for today. I’ll think about it again tomorrow before the first hit.

Then not again for approximately 24 hours.

Nuff said. I reach for the bong feeling no regrets today. I’m awake and have a bar of chocolate in me, but I can anticipate my feelings getting just a nice pleasant upgrade in a few minutes.



I inhale and exhale 6 times without much time in between. The first shard melts and creates a nice set of clouds that hardly linger. I take a brief break to type this and reload the second of three break off bits into the bong ready for set number two but first I reload my preferred orange lighter. It drains button quickly but I prefer it’s flame over my backup orange $5.00 torch. I briefly rememis over my old favourite pipe, left behind in Niagara with all my wildly possessions when I ran away from home last year. 

I sip from my water bottle and start inhaling deep breaths again.

As I exhale slowly, creating a series of smoky o-rings, it hits. Like a bell dinging. I have passed the point and I feel it.

I remember again, as if for the first time, slower is better. I instantly do four more slower hits chasing that brief transition from normal me to the version we users refer to as Spun. A state of mind which is almost identical to how I felt a few moments ago, but without caring so much about the things I’ve already forgotten to care about. For better and worse, decisions seem to be right once I’ve passed through the clouds to this version of me 

Confident I’m not high. I’m just a better me.

Even as I typed that, I see how it might be seen as a pile of shit spoken by a druggie justifying his habit but I don’t care now. It works for me this morning. I get why this drug is popular and feared and why it is used on secrecy. All drugs have a unique “you can’t know if you have not experienced it* kind of feeling but meth still has the all powerful propaganda campaign so it is a line most people would not cross, and then if they ever do try it, it must remain an absolute secret so they are not lumped in with the stereotype image of a meth addict everyone they know has of us. I’ve been there. I’ve lost friends.

I’ve made new friends thanks to the community itself which is bonded by this secrecy and image. If we try to explain it’s not as evil as you think, we are dismissed as high and addicted.

I get it… But the life change has had a net positive for me. I’m fat less unhappy and all my friends with mental struggles are still struggling, trying different prescriptions every few months equally chasing the perfect one. Many of those pills have considerable side effects to including suicidal thoughts and a worsening depression.

Meanwhile I live alone in my head and am more social online than I have ever been. I have adapted. I wake up to a life of purpose and share it online here.

I can’t see it personally without a re-read but I suspect the change in mold can be seen on my writing which followed along in real time as I consumed. A change I’m less aware of than a reader .right be.

Time for some more snacks, phase three of the rationed shard and my social media scan of the day. 



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