On addictions and letting go.

I have a list of a hundred things to do, animals that need my attention, skin that needs to be tanned, things that need to be bought, friends that need updating, forms that need to be filled out, and people who need the truth.

All I can really do is sit here and write. My brain needs something or someone, but I'm going to let it be for a while. I just don't know what to do with it sometimes. You have no idea what it's like to be me, I hardly even do.

I'll admit to my addiction to anti-anxiety meds right now. I started off taking them only when I needed to. I got them from the doctor so it felt legit. I followed instructions and took the correct milligram, they helped. I was calm and realized why my relationship with Raph failed; going so many years with intense anxiety and nervousness untreated. So I pleaded with him, told him I would be better, that we were supposed to get married and have a really successful, practical life. But see, he couldn't imagine me calm or practical. He made me feel crazy, therefore I was crazy because he's all I really had.

I lost my health insurance due to a company getting bought out by a larger, more powerful company. It happens. How would I go on without Ativan? At this point I still wasn't very addicted or dependent on the 'scripts, still only taking them when needed, as directed. However, I knew the time would come where I'd turn into that raging bitch again, like I was in San Fran. So I searched for a dealer. I'd have to take the black market route to get what I needed. It didn't take me long. I found a xanax slanger in no time.

I still didn't abuse them. I was quiet about them, and quiet with myself. Everything was going great, I was so calm and peaceful, so nieve and passive. But somehow the universe brought a male into my life that completely fit everything I have ever wanted. EVERYTHING. I mean, I just can't fucking say it enough. He was extremely straight forward from the beginning; not wanting a relationship. I nodded my head and said, "me neither". As time went on it felt like things were going somewhere, I mean, shit felt sort of serious. He helped me with things and I helped him. I saw him on a daily basis and it didn't feel like a game or anything. I finally had someone I could talk to about the things I wanted to talk about. I had finally met someone smarter than me.

Then, the mom got involved. This is sort of where I started to loose it. I get close to mothers for obvious reasons and it just never fucking fails; they always love me.
It was hard for me to tell her that he didn't want me, that he had much bigger and more important things on his to-do lists. She wouldn't listen. She kept telling me to be patient and work on it.

Some time in the mix of misunderstandings and the guy fulfilling what he's been working at for the last 7 years or so, I started taking more and more xanax. Eh, I pretty much took anything I could get my hands on. Still functioning, still working, and still having a grasp of myself, I was numb. It became easier to ignore that I fell for someone who's basically in a different world than me, who'd never feel the way that I did. I just went with the flow and he still kept coming back to me. I tried calling it off so many times, but I care about him so much, he would simply send me a text message that said, "sup" and I'd be "omw".

This is pretty much where I am now. I can't go a day without pills because I'm too afraid of my brain without them.

I am the abuser. I've adused myself.