Author Topic: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?  (Read 2030 times)

Offline nikita70 (OP)

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UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« on: December 27, 2015, 07:06:08 PM »
I think I need to get this shit out of my chest, eventually,
unless I will never be able to get rid of this intrusive impression that I'm not completely honest with you, guys, trying to disclose something what might be crucial and pretending to be someone comletely else who I'm not and never ever been...
I'm going to be as concise as I only could, considering my selfestablished status of a Chatterbox On Duty ;D...

NOTE I got to the end and I know I was failing in my noble project of being „concise” (it's even worse than usually, lol).
So, respecting your valuable time, I highly recommend to ignore the first part of this elaborating and-if I may-ask you to read the second one.
Thank you in advance. 

Most of the people perceiving the moment they have joined MMT/substitution of any kind as some positive breakthrough, right? (like i.e. Junkette and many, many others. Btw-hello, Junkette :))
Thus, could someone explain to me, please, what is/might be namely wrong with my-fucking-(and apparently fucked up)-self, so it (I mean MMT) not only didn't cause any positive change in my life, but entered/led me into some 15years long(!!!) period of numbness, monotony, gloom and slowly but inevitable escaping illusions, what I still persisting in, as if deadlocked, without to see any way out of this woe and misery...

And to forestall your possibly speculations I'm saying like no, I'm pretty sure this is not because of the incorrectly adjusted dose.
Seems the dose has nothing to do with it, unfortunately-I wish it would, but it apparently doesn't...it always makes things way easier if the problem is rooted/getting stuck outside instead of inside you, right?

I went through all the spectrum of doses, ranging from 70mgs (definitely too much for me, made me feel letargic, numb, petrified, drastically reduced my cognitive abilities, my life forces, sex drive, etc., what is completely unacceptable to me) to 15mgs ending, including 1 year of being off of the 'done in the meantime (using bupe with quite satisfactory results).

So, there's a question arising, why I namely didn't stay on bupe, as it made me feel quite stable and seemingly whole?

Well, the point is pretty sad-even if I objectively made some really spectacular progress/jump in self-development and self-improvement since I switched for a bupe,
(like "OMG, girl, you were doing sooo well those times, why, for fucks sake, did you give it up instead of just keep hanging on there at any price, no matter how much would it hurt? At such a rate you'd be PhD today for sure... You fucked it up, girl"...as it weren't bad enough itself to want off yourself immediately...)
the truth is I DIDN'T feel WHOLE since I left the drug scene (assuming that I felt like this whenever in my life before, at all, what is pretty questionable, still, this is another kettle of fish and doesn't belong to the topic), plus, that one year long episode as I have been working as a needle exchange attendant-the hugest psychological hoax and fake I ever met, so to say.
The guy who has invented it must have been insane or kinky/perverted or both.
The project was patterned after and based on so called "peer-support" ideas, that are pretty common practice in Harm Reduction.
However, what sounds reasonable and perfectly sane theoretically, might be easily turning into its own opposite, kinda parody.
I'm not sure how my coworkers have dealt with it, for me was the trap quite obvious since I have realized my real attitude. My status.
Now I was a junkie (provided with a regular supplies of my drug) who is PAID (poor but still) for a regular, schedulded attending the drug scene.
I was advantaged-well, we all 6 or 8 lucky bastards were-had some super-comfy place to "work" (read-having a good time), quite flexible hours of "work"/schedule, computer, power (and I don't mean the sign of the "interrupted" circle with a line stuck in, that usually appears on technical devices ;), I meant I was that one who rules, you know, being labelled as a "social worker" I was in charge (well, we, "workers" all were), as they were just "clients"), then little "gifts" in exchange for "little favors" I used to do to them, i.e.turning my eye blind/looking the other way or how it calls-I didn't mind to deal/score inside of the room, loads of buddies, friends and aquitances surrending me constantly plus nothing or nearly nothing to do.
Hard to figure out some easier way to feed ones firmly rooted, serious social addiction...as well as hard to figure one is able to restrain themselves from a little misusing here and there...

However, being a scam or not, it obviously was well to me, cos after the "project" has been failed (this is what must have happened easier or later, when you once think about it thoroughly and honest) I was in such a good shape (in any meaning) like never before-I mean since I have joined MMT.
Sounds quite ridiculous, kinda upside-down, right?

Anyway, I somehow "catched the wave" and really believed this being a "new beginning", a real breakthrough-I thought I'm finally succeedded to grow up and get rid of this "stigma of an endless inmaturity" joining/plaguing me since I can remember.
First time in my life I felt as an adult, stable, outgoing and strong enough to face/struggle with some really "mature" challenges/undertakings, instead of sticking deadlocked forever in some junkies' BEYOND TIME room,
kinda Interzone, where senile children, "accessories'/gadget' freaks" living in a state of permanently "emotionally ejaculatio praecox"
(it's how I used to call typically junkies' premature and inadequate reactions)
guts their plenty bags, spreading the contain on the park bench to show off and share their new "treasures", lol...

I entered back the university to eventually complete my interrupted education, plus,
in order to point/emphasize my conversion and acquire this difficult ability to please/indulge myself another way than just this only one I used to know,
I started to enter some brand shops occasionally to purchaise my clothes, instead of buying them nowhere but just in second-hand stores, as I used to do before. Hell, I got some regular, legal employment finally, got a salary and stuff, so I could afford myself to do it, didn't I? 8). After all, I was 35, high time to start act like a real woman, I mean jump out this too-short skirts, heavy boots, cargo pants, baseball caps, hoods and whole this cholita' design, haha.

However, easier said than done, I might be said easier change the fucking clothes than one's mindframe, but even this shit was like some pain in the ass, instead of being just a pure pleasure, as you would expect.
You are entering some shop with plenty of good intentions and some inner,  kinda built in "remote controller" drags/leads you straight to the wrong direction you promised yourself firmly to avoid. It lets you stop where some "rag-clothes" hanging instead of nice, neat and elegant ones, so finally you leave the shop laden with another one "heroin chic" collection, with the same looking pants and hoods your wardrobe is already overloaded by. But this is what you realize when it's too late (well, you always could to return this shit, but that's not the point)... The point is inside of the shop you're kinda sleepwalker.

Lol, sorry for rambling, I'm here not to bother you with my super-fucking-serious-a-matter-of-life-and-death-shopping-issues... I'm really not any Hannah Montana, I'm Carmen Sandiego, remember? haha. But this shit is just a part of some wider problem I'm struggling with no matter how silly does it sounds. This is a symptom of something bigger that plagues me...

Since I entered the Uni again, I realized that working in the Drop-In Center (informally injection room) I'm familiar with since I only remember is one thing (even if I'm seemingly exposed for the same or similiar inconveniencies working people usually are), as being surrended by people you can't  impress easily, just like that with your silver tongue and cheap talk is something completely different.
To make things even worse, I started a regular treatment based on psychology of the depth (actually it was closer to psychoanalysys than just a sobriety focused therapy)  with some beautiful Lady I fell in love with.
It was platonic love, more enticing and encharming, identifying and projecting than anything else, but still. If there're Angels here on this earth existing, then She was one.
If some of you is familiar with the book "A Woman Who Runs With The Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, then she/he's getting a grasp what it was.
 
As I've seen Her first time in a dispensary for addicts, I considered Her to be kinda combaining/mixture of Keith Richards' daughter going through the detox and one of those well-born middle-aged mystic-ladies (like Hildegard of Bingen).

If some of you is familiar with the book "A Woman Who Runs With The Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, then she/he's getting a grasp what it was.
I got equipped with the certain knowledge, but wasn't able to "follow this wisdom" in my daily life.
 
To cope with it, to grow up to.
 
What-needless to tell- make things even worse, because without being combained with your strong will it is just kinda „idle, useless insight”, still, this shit is powerful enough to thwart any pleasure and put you into horrible discomfort every time you're going to indulge yourself the „old proven method”, if you get my grasp...
 
I always had an impression there must be something wrong with me.
However, if someone would be asking me for when things started get out of control-I'd point out exactly this moment.
 
I was getting insane in 2007, definitely, no matter how exalted does it sound, it's how my statement would sound. I was going to enter my carreer, keep up the time I wasted, and I was driving nuts instead. Well, maybe the reason is that in my deepest depth I was dishonest with myself-namely, I was going to "save" a little piece of my past life, instead getting rid of everything...
Anyway, it started kinda... seemingly harmless...
So, well-done horrors used to start like this, don't they?
Before this "trailer" turned into a full-blown nightmare, there was just a slightly, hardly perceptible note of dreariness every day after awakening.
 
I just wanted not to get up. Wanted my sleep never ending. Wanted it lasts infinity, so I don't need to get up and move/go...
But what/where was this place I DIDN'T want to go so desperately?
It was some NOWHERE, the place when NOTHING SPECIAL/OUTTA SIGHT/AWE-INSPIRING/EXCEPTIONAL happens.
The place SHIT happens.
The place there's nothing to look forward.
The place there's no reason to dress up to get there.
The place there's no reason to go to.

Plus, there was something else-something really disturbing, what I could recognize and verbalize only with the utmost difficulty, and when it eventually happened, might be summed up in a single word-SERIOUSLY.
Like „this is not a game” and there are going not to be any „multiplied lives given to you”, as it happens in games.
This is all for REAL.
Life, death, putting needles into your poor battered body, getting strung out, wasting your life, getting oldier and irreversibility of this process, absence of God, inevitability of passing away.

...Aww, such a woe, such a disaster...
 
Looks this poor 37yrs old chick
Finally got her WISDOM TEETH
Because, darling, the oldier you are
Going through childhood diseases-the more it hurts ;)

Or maybe she just OD-ed some „improper reading”, what combained and overlapping with the natural given vulnerability and the general ambience of a mess, confusion and unsecurity led her to the mental „short circuit”, or how it calls.

Anyway, SERIOUSLY. This little, damned word, that has changed my life was crucial.
It took time before this vague statement has been turned into a full-blown, complicated existential system. At the beginning it was just this single word.
SERIOUSLY. And FOR REAL.
Probably the most sinister words I ever heard. I ever spelled.

As I had not any reason good enough to leave my flat, I just stopped to leave, limiting my going-outs to the point it was absolutely necessary and inevitable. Like getting my bupe' scripts. Or get to the University, for the lectures, or to the library, because I just entered the new chapter in my life, remember?
Completely insane.
However, getting around a city has been turned into a dreariest nightmare.

Could be said, my Dictionary Of Woe has been enriched with another one doomed word-SERIOUSLY has „married” UNCOMPLETED (aka DIRTY. MISERABLE. LOWLIFE. SECOND-HAND LIFE. But basically all they secondary words were kinda „derivates” coming from/drawing from this fucking UNCOMPLETED).

Now my wretchedness... got completed finally, lol...

So I used to stand up from my bedside, completely deadbeat, it seemed as if I were more tired than before I was laying down, and after I desperately attempt to struggle with this strange, overwhelming feeling I never ever had before (what the fuck is this REAL?), I  was entering another one nightmare, waiting just behind the door. UNCOMPLETED.

The word SERIOUSLY/FOR REAL indicates to my very personal existential struggle with absurdity, sense of unsecurity and loneliness, as UNCOMPLETED affects my socialability, so to say. The way I wanted beeing perceived by the others and the way I was afraid not to be perceived... the way I hated to be perceived...

Sure they „overlapping” with each other. Feeling stable and secure keeps you far away from your obsessions/concerns, so you don't care so much on perfection, as the sense of „being completed” (what in many ways has to do with the quest/striving for control) seemingly impregnates you against the Weltschmerz.

Well, this „UNCOMPLETED” shit doesn't reflect one's real status-as I noticed this is kinda obsessive-compulsive reaction when some addict (of any kind) is getting exposed for the reality while being deprived on their psychological „impregnation”, whatever it is.
I like things around me are neatly and organized-this is what Narkotikon has once written and it's what I let myself to „borrow” on the occasion, if I may (don't worry, Nark, I'll pay you interests for it ;)).
„UNCOMPLETED” is some extremely annoying impression that things around me aren't neatly and organized. They are (in fact-you are) dirty and messed up, instead. The Streets seem to be cluttered and you feel sandwiched. Pierced and overwhelmed by hostile, scornful looks, you're gathering from all around. It feels like an ass itching somewhere in the back on your brain, lol. And there's no way out of it.
 It also goes hand in hand with another statement made by Narkotikon in exactly this section-namely, an intrusive impression of being the biggest loser ever...

„UNCOMPLETED” is kinda external manifestation of this obsession and refers more to how do you think you are looking like comparing to all those „Winners” surrending you on the streets, in the bus, fucking everywhere.

Yeah, „Winners”, it is how I used to call them, as I am The Biggest Loser Ever.
Because I have some intrusive impression that ALL people around carrying some Secret I never ever had an access to. And this is so vexed, because anyone knows it-everyone excepting me.
 
Every casheer and room-maid, a bartender and a hooker sitting behind that bar, every workman, cop, peasant, redneck, salesman, not even to mention fucking lawyers, doctors, therapysts and so called „psychologists” sitting with their arms folded, nodding and sometimes babbling-hey, isn't it what I'm cutting for perfectly?
But shit-the problem is I don't know THE PASSWORD, as they do. It feels as if I missed my turn as they handed out THE HOLY GRAIL to everyone.
Needless to tell things are so tough since heroin/(using in general) isn't an Answer, anymore.

Before it happens, Streets not only carried, but just „waved” you gentle and smoothly.
You were that one, who ruled, weren't you?
El Hombre Invisible is hitting the Streets clutching their Holy Grail in the pocket and even if he/she looks like shit, it feels like a billion bucks' shit.
Using as a permanent cognitive dissonance between how do things „look” and how do they „feel”.

Soon after that shit has affected me, I stopped to leave-this is basical why I've been failed on the University. But this feeling of being deadlocked were so overwhelming. I felt as I were permanently exposed for sharp angles.
The „reality” around was kinda bristled with sharp edges, even the slightest touch/interaction were bothersome.
My clothes were so incomfortable,  and looked kinda awful like, really disgusting. I was about to feel my breath were stinking, I'd bet it did, so I kept my mouth shut and secretly ate refreshing pastilles, ad nauseam. I spoke out only as I felt safe and sure no one is able to notice my embarrassing ailment.
 
Do you know this awful impression the slightest move is going to cause some disaster, like you collapse or make everything around fall apart, therefore you attemp to keep yourself stiff and rigid, unless something bad happens?
 
When I was out-I striving to find in my seclusion again, as soon as possible, because I couldn't stand my misery, this shortage getting exposed public.
 
„Next time I'll make it up perfectly, so I shall to be COMPLETED eventually”, I thought, without to be exactly sure what and how namely could I change. I only had some vague impression I appeal to some episode of perfection. As if I were able to „bewitch” and change myself and all the world in some single act of perfection-something comparable with arrange perfect hairdo, having the best sex ever, shoting up heroin first time...
I think I somehow subconsciously believed in magic moment that makes my entire and future life „summed up”, so it gets its „acme” and maybe runs out in it.
Willy-nilly therefore my twisted mind has leaned toward the only one mindtrack and way of expression I ever knew, which obviously doesn't reflect and harmonize with the daily life' „wavelenghts”, no way.
Well, you can „bewitch” yourself sticking the needle in your vein (and this way compel a desirable viewing angle, a semblance of „you rule”), but you can't do the same to the world. It would be nice to make it getting high, though. ;)     

I got developed a really awful habit of permanently going into some comparisons with the other people, which I considered to be more advantaged than I was, and got really meticulously in it, soon-the tiniest detail like a notice/rumor/gossip this and that happened to this and that one was enough to make me freak out and cause some serious pang/hysterical episode. I hate the others, but I hurt myself, instead.

I kept waking up every day with another „variation” of the same excrutiating emotional pain, as if it had plenty of different „embodiments”.
No matter how ridiculous and pathetic does it sound, my heart has been bleeding constantly.
It wasn't just fleeting blues, bad mood or how they call it, an ongoing pain-it's what it was. As if I got some huge debt to pay, an instant debt, like an acute, instant withdrawal. And indeed, it kinda felt like withdrawal, huge craving, psychological one.
 
It kinda felt as if I got overwhelmed by all the possibly questions that didn't bother me before, without to getting reward with some proper answers.

I bang my head against the wall, cut my wrists with some blunt knives, pull my hair, slapped my face, crawled on the floor, cos it felt I got caught in a trap or maybe I was/my dirty body was a trap... Something wanted me to set it free.
Every time my thoughts had their vicious cycle completed and got back to the starting point without to find any idea to get out, I mortyfied myself even more. I starved myself, as I hate myself being so disgusting skinny and permanently fantasing about having „robust” body, big tits and wide hips.
I just couldn't deal with shopping, cooking, etc., etc.
My compulsive disorders plus the time I spent freaking out and being plagued was just too much consuming-my insanity (or how to call it) imposed me extremely tight schedule I was living within.

It seemed, the shit is never going to break off, excepting these so precious moments of bedtime' respite-apparently the „devil” fit into human daily cycle of life.

I was falling on my bed, deadly whacked, and that was the magic moment the fight was over for awhile. I was doing my pills, my 'done and as I trying to relax and listening into my body getting some rest, I was able to feel the relief overwhelming me slowly, step by step...
So I wallowing in delight until the next morning' pang will have beat the shit outta me, so it hits the ceiling.

Welcome home, bitch!       

   
A Toda Madre O Un Desmadre

BloodInBloodOutBloodIn

Junkies are like noodles-straight 'til gettin' wet

"Maybe we should follow in the steps of Artonin Artaud and throw our remaining dope in the river,
get flung into gut-wrenching purging withdrawal,drink ayahuasca and eat peyote..." (Roman Totale)

Offline neighborboy

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #1 on: December 28, 2015, 05:08:20 PM »
"This is all for REAL.
Life, death, putting needles into your poor battered body, getting strung out, wasting your life, getting oldier and irreversibility of this process, absence of God, inevitability of passing away.
"

 well all of it really, but  that part i can definitely relate to...
 Also I guess all i can say is all those successful people with the password or secret are probably also pretty miserable and down on their selves in different ways, look at how people talk about looking at their social media/facebooks and blogs, for example. That isn't at all to say to minimize how things are for you, just i guess when ever i start to feel that way it it helps to know that is the human condition and we never know what somebody else is going through. 

Anyways, i always enjoy reading your posts, here and before, not like "oh this is entertaining" but always insightful and somehow it can be so different from my experiences here(in the USA) but obviously commonalities that just come from being addicted to whatever, pills heroin MMT, that lifestyle. Obviously keep writing you have a way with words, and if nothing else at least you're getting it out there. Hope things look up for you, or if nothing else dont get any worse, the fact you are able to talk about it and see it is more then allot of people seem to be able to do.

Offline Sand and Water

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #2 on: December 28, 2015, 09:56:26 PM »
Your posts are always a feast of ideas, concepts and insights. I have to re-read them b/c they're so full of things that remind me of where I was/am now and so on.  Please don't feel like you failed to be "concise" - some things just *can't* be compressed & you write beautifully!  I think it was you writing about your project on the Phile? 

 A lot of what you say is immediately so relatable--so "familiar", no matter "where" we are in life, imo. It's bittersweet that with time, the reflections (the good and not so good) come calling & tug on my sleeve to get my attention.

 *So* much more I'm thinking, but gonna re-read what you said first.

Thank you for your writing, it's amazing & I hope you keep it up :)
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #3 on: December 30, 2015, 12:31:27 PM »
Hey I just wanted to let you know I read your post. I'm going to read it again before writing a full reply because, like Sand and Water said, it is complex and poetic and I want to make sure I'm picking up what you're putting down.

Oh and, just a suggestion: you said that you really wanted people to focus on the second part of your post and reply to that if they didn't want to read the whole thing... it wasn't really clear to me where the second part began and maybe more people would read it if you marked the beginning of it. Honestly, I think you're not getting many replies simply because it's a long post and people aren't taking the time to read it... not because it's bad content or something like that.

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #4 on: December 30, 2015, 02:38:39 PM »
Nikita
You write so beautifully
That whenever I want to respond
I am taken aback b/c nothing I write
Will compare

You seem to be a REALLY good person
That is from what I have read thru the years

You have made a lot of progress
It's nothing to be taken lightly

I can relate to
The feeling of wanting to peel yourself out of your own skin
Even after so many positive steps have been made
It can be a daily
Even moment to moment battle
Of wanting to be any where
Besides your own skin
Especially if you get stuck in that headspace
Where EVERY little move
Is gnawing away on your soul

I don't really know if things get better
But
I have faith that you are a strong enuf woman
To make it thru

Sending my love
We are all curious about
The things
That may harm us

-Federico Garcia Lorca

Never underestimate the predictability of stupidity!
- BulletTooth Tony

Offline nikita70 (OP)

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #5 on: December 30, 2015, 03:01:23 PM »
Oh and, just a suggestion: you said that you really wanted people to focus on the second part of your post and reply to that if they didn't want to read the whole thing... it wasn't really clear to me where the second part began and maybe more people would read it if you marked the beginning of it. Honestly, I think you're not getting many replies simply because it's a long post and people aren't taking the time to read it... not because it's bad content or something like that.

Yeah, you're absolutely right about it. I'd never dare to expect people going through this post meticulously, since I realize how timeconsuming this shit gets.  I rather did it to clear my head and organize my thoughts a little, however, I'm looking forward and appreciate any effort to go through/respond-this is always so much welcome...
Oh, and saying about the "second part" I didn't mean anything special-maybe just the part I started to point what exactly happened to me, like "I was getting insane in 2007", lol.

"This is all for REAL.
Life, death, putting needles into your poor battered body, getting strung out, wasting your life, getting oldier and irreversibility of this process, absence of God, inevitability of passing away.
"

 well all of it really, but  that part i can definitely relate to...
 Also I guess all i can say is all those successful people with the password or secret are probably also pretty miserable and down on their selves in different ways, look at how people talk about looking at their social media/facebooks and blogs, for example. That isn't at all to say to minimize how things are for you, just i guess when ever i start to feel that way it it helps to know that is the human condition and we never know what somebody else is going through. 

Sure, you're abolutely right about these apparently "insiders" that knows "the key". However, what I meant wasn't the state of an utter, permanently happiness (what I know not to exist), but rather some "mature attitude" what enables these people to deal with/face the hassles better or worse.


A Toda Madre O Un Desmadre

BloodInBloodOutBloodIn

Junkies are like noodles-straight 'til gettin' wet

"Maybe we should follow in the steps of Artonin Artaud and throw our remaining dope in the river,
get flung into gut-wrenching purging withdrawal,drink ayahuasca and eat peyote..." (Roman Totale)

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Re: UNCOMPLETED and SERIOUS-obsessed? posessed? depressed?
« Reply #6 on: December 30, 2015, 03:23:17 PM »
Speaking to that "mature attitude"
That enables others
To take on things/situations
That we may find unbearable
Uphill battles
I don't really believe
There is a certain "mature" attitude that makes it possible

For me
It's just knowing that I HAVE no choice
But to make it thru

I used to wonder
If there was a "key" to unlock
That ability
But the older I got
The more I realized that there more than likely
Isn't any such "key"

It's more of a process
I think
Than something you just wake up
One day
Knowing how to do

In my life
My most valuable coping mechanism
Is laughter
If I couldn't laugh at myself
Or
At the cosmic joke
That life is
I don't know what I'd do

Nikita
As I said above
I have faith
That you are a strong enuf woman
To take on whatever battles
Life throws at you

I don't know if it helps
But know that you are by far alone
In your struggles

We are all curious about
The things
That may harm us

-Federico Garcia Lorca

Never underestimate the predictability of stupidity!
- BulletTooth Tony

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