Rundownburntout but worn eloquently

Some more trash shit updates

Well here is my new blog. 😭. I have all of this pain and writing energy and I feel like I just expended it all trying to get back into me old one and then finally giving up and making this. 
I just got back from AJO arizona. Not my most recommended visiting spots to a friend lol I feel so lost rn and everything was simplified down there. But it was an incredibly difficult ride. I have been out of the hospital for 5 days now I think, and I went to ajo with the person that cared for me the 11 days I was sick. The deal was he got me better and then I got him better. Simple, easy, right? No. Two completely different ailments. Let’s talk about fentanyl for a little second. I have had a recent personal run in with it after years sober off of heroin. It was a nightmarish hell that scorched me too bad to even continue and getting off of it was the most unimaginable sensation of misery and pain I have ever experienced. And the taste is like no other, like it has been cultured and brewed or Curdled in the lower intestine of the emptiest darkest searching of demons there is. Like a sweet milky grinded up concoction of demon bones from a cannibal demon that ate another and it won’t digest so it sits in it and rots. This was almost a year ago. I thought I finally experienced hell, I told two people about this and they nursed me back to health after I kicked one of them in the face and tried to hop out of their moving car and ran to Cali I had a lot of speed bumps getting off of it and I would detox off of heroin 100 times more before I would touch fent again. but I have four months off of opiates today. I thought I knew hell though ^^. Back to the topic… I didn’t…. I met hell in AJO. Trying to help this man that has been by my side and dragged through the dirt by me. I felt like a prisoner trying to detox him. Because he has put his hands on me, he has over powered me and I can’t stop trying to help him as he can’t stop trying to help me. It’s sickening I’m in school for social work and I can’t stop this cycle. Maybe this is my first attempt, coming clean and pursuing an end to it. I’m sorry to all of my fans for not being forthcoming I was so afraid. So I sat. In ajo right by the border with my fentanyl addicted, dealing, technically, as a joke but very real… husband. Why? Because of loyalty love god respect and friendship facade that my brain creates to try and mask something really sick inside of me. Hell is not experienced first hand hell is watching someone tear through bed sheets with beads of sweat rolling down their face crying and screaming your name for help while you try to knock them out with weed Xanax gabapentin and suboxone. Hell is watching the person wait 36 hours and high five them as you prop them up to place a suboxone under their tongue and anxiously wait the 30 minutes for the relief to come and it turns for the worst and becomes precipitated withdrawal. Hell is typing up a 14 page care plan for a fake client while you’re real client is dying in bed while you’re trying to heal your stomach while cute boys and girls ask you if you wanna drink or swim with them at the motel and you have to impolitely decline because even if you’re a touch of respectful or friendly your husband will take it as flirting and get angry and violent. Hell is walking past the parking lot wishing I was in the pool swimming and laughing and enjoying my 20s with free fun people but being tied to the hotel room. My entire 20s I’ve either been on heroin detoxing in treatment dying trying to stay clean or being tied to people needing to detox it’s not a life. Hell is fighting tooth and nail for yourself getting years sober and relapsing on fentanyl on accident and having your best friend take you to detox off of it and they end up using and catching the virus from you but you’re better now. I went there to that place and they came to rescue me but they ended up making a trade and I got to come back and they didn’t. I feel like poison and the boy made it 40 hours of ultimate turmoil in ajo before I gave up and he gave up and we came back to Phoenix. I’m going to lose my friend and my jokingly real husband. And I don’t have feelings I can’t even cry because it hurts too much. I refuse to find a place to live I refuse to make any choices and all I can think about is everything and nothing. And my care plan is late. I have dreams I have so many fucking dreams and my heart is going to shatter all of them. I don’t play safe and I don’t take advice and I’m in a cycle of chaos rn and can’t even catch up to myself this is so embarrassing if someone reads this. But oh well I should not care about what anyone thinks I have been hiding this for too long out of shame. I need to be purely and fearlessly honest again. I’ve been imprisoned once again by drugs, domestic violence, trash people and choices and why? Because my soul was born sick, my soul was born searching, my pain will always be temporarily relieved. I will always wake up empty and need to fill something inside of me. But don’t get me wrong I’m in fucking pain and I’m fucking god damn sober and I’m a scrappy ruthless fighter. I will fight to get everything out of this life that I can and when I die I still go out in a forest fire of flames. Please pray for me loved one, I dropped him off in Phoenix last night and declined his plea of going with him and letting him come to me after he used. Please pray for me. And please pray for my dog. I’ll write something dirty and crazy next time I love you all and thank you for allowing me to be authentically myself