I’m speaking tonight at an H-N-I meeting for the Mad Russian. I don’t know what to say, but I hear it’s supposed to be that way.

H-N-I stands for Hospitals and Institutions, and is when addicts bring in meetings to jail and rehabs and shit and we share our story to people locked inside.

12:15am

My dad is a fucking scumbag. I’ve been coming home at midnight for the past six months, and tonight he yells at me for being late. He tells me I can’t be trusted, because I’m fucking around all night. I’ve been trying to sign up for the SAT’s and he gets something in the mail about college requirements. He says I can’t come home a minute past ten from now on or I have to sleep outside.

What the fuck is that shit?

I feel like killing my dad. I really want him to die. He’s such a faggot. I want to go out, take his ATM card, buy some crack and take a huge blast.

I don’t even go out on the weekends. I go to meetings every day. I spoke at a treatment center tonight, I do HNI, and I got a job. I go to school every fucking day. I’m taking night classes.

Oh and did I mention that I’M FUCKING CLEAN?!

What else could he want from me? I’m seventeen years old and I think I’m doing pretty fucking good for myself now. It’s just never good enough, I’m always fucking up in his eyes. I wish he’d find me dead in a bathroom somewhere. I wish he was left with the burden that so many parents are left with… he expects so much from me that I feel like giving up. I hate him. All he does is yell and scream.

This is usually when I would use, actually this is when I would ALWAYS use. We argue about stupid shit, shit that I think shouldn’t even matter, and then…

SHIT. I have to chair The Ten tomorrow! Fuck. I can’t miss that. I have to be there. My dad told me he doesn’t want me going to meetings. He said going to meetings was for fucking losers and that’s all I’ll ever be if i keep going to them.

I fucking hate him so much.