I got six months clean.

I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be.

I haven’t been to a meeting in two days, which isn’t good. I had night school yesterday and I just passed out after it. I always think I can lie down on my bed for just a little, but I always end up napping for three hours. I was really excited to be getting six months last week, but not anymore.

Yesterday, my dad told me we have a thousand dollars to last until midway through October. Fuck. I hope I have money to go to prom or homecoming or whatever it is for the first time. I don’t really wanna go but this girl told me I should go and said I could be her date. We fucked a couple times, she’s redneck but cool and pretty hot and has nice tits.. she drinks a lot though.

I haven’t seen a Roxy in so long. I heard they’re selling for twelve bucks and shit! Paying twelve dollars for a blue is insane. I remember when I used to get them for seven.

I wonder what scripts and doctor visits are costing.

Sometimes I imagine myself falling down a black hole. Every so often I hit something, but I keep falling, until the falling almost becomes comfortable. I’m no longer worried. I just keep falling, and then I land on a giant broken stem. And it goes right through my chest, the jagged glass piercing me upon landing on top of the chore, the end of the crack pipe where my heart is black and resonated glossy white down the bottom.

I’m scared I’ll smoke crack again. I can taste it when I wake up from my drug dreams, and I often feel like crying.

I saw her at the senior “bleacher pictures” today. Every time I see her it’s like time stops, and a little voice whispers, “hey, guess what? You’re a piece of shit.”

Then life starts back up again and I keep walking. So what does it feel like to be six months clean?

It feels okay now, but I know it’ll feel awesome later. Then it’ll feel kinda boring. Then awesome, then good, it’ll be bad then it’ll go around all over again. The emotions of a clean addict.

I really gotta get that STD test. Abigail texted me and said:

“I’m at the hospital getting tested for stuff,”

“Like what…”

“Umm, you’ll get mad...”

“Tell me now!”

“I relapsed. I’m getting checked into detox.”

PHEW! I thought she had AIDS or something!

I just walked by this handicap/mentally challenged girl. She had a nurse walking around with her, it’s probably the only person she talks to at school. It makes me really fucking sad, and the sadness lasts a long time. I was thinking about her all day, just imagining how fucking sad that is… How sad it must be for her parents… Isn’t that the worst fucking thing? Like who does she talk to? What does she do? I looked around like, what the fuck, does anyone else see this, there’s a fucking handicapped girl at our school walking around with a nurse, she had tubes coming out of her, her head is turned to the left, who is this girl?

No one gives a fuck. But it was all I could think about the entire day.

I’m going to The Ten to get my six-month key tag now. My parents told me they were proud of me.

Am I going to be able to keep this up?

I don’t know. Just for today, just for today, today—that’s all I need to focus on.

Just don’t use, that’s the main thing right?

  ♬  

     So child don’t go getting your hopes up,

don’t go getting your hopes

up, 

don’t go getting your hopes up, 

up, up…”

- Say Anything