graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five Alive I'm doing ok. I don't want to get into the details right now, but a lot of people have been really kind to write, so I want to acknowledge that. My heart has been freaking me out for a few days, like it did last January when I checked into an ER after thinking I was having a heart attack and lost consciousness. It's all the same symptoms of a heart attack, with the exception of the only time it feels ok, is when I do cardio for a length of time. Then I'm good for a few hours and can sleep. So I rushed to an emergency appt to the doctor today after palpitations and a burning in my back and some pins and needles in my left arm. It's been happening off and on since Saturday. They did a million tests: blood pressure, EKG, drew blood to test. But essentially my doctor ruled that I'm having anxiety attacks. I have completely and utterly freaked myself out. And I'm sure some of it is also my body breaking down. So I go back tomorrow for a follow up with a cardiologist who is going to do an echo-cardiogram, just for good measure, because I am so fucking flipped out. My blood reults will be back then. I cried in the doctor's office. I'm just emotionally drained. It's a lot to be quietly plagued by the idea that you may not wake up if you fall asleep, every day for 3 days. It's pretty fucking debilitating. I found a local friend who is in recovery and I've been talking to her, which is also calming me down. I'm going to a meeting on Friday night. I started looking at therapists who specialize working with people who've have addictions. Things are changing. I'm feeling much better. I talked to a friend of mine tonight that I kinda pushed away all summer. It was a mutual pushing away; he has his own life to live. Anyway, I forgot how much I love him. He's one of the few people that I really trust; that I never lied to. Even when I was using and I didn't want anyone to know, if it was a random Tuesday night. He would sometimes, somehow find me at a bar and he'd call me out on it. Quietly. And he never made me feel bad about it. He would stay up and keep me company, even though he wasn't partying, to make sure that I was ok. So I wasn't alone. He's a good guy. Not a lot of people out there who aren't using or past users who can be understanding of a bad habit and nonjudgmental. There are so many in the world, and no one, NO ONE, can be a more harsh judge than an addict to themselves. That, I can promise you. The disapproval, the lectures, the looks from people around you when you are using - they just provoke you to use more. To hide it better. I'm so over that. I'm over last year. I want to get on with my life. I want to have a life. I don't want to spend any more time jumping in and out of strangers cars - worrying if I might rolled by someone low in the back, leaving bars unexpectedly to make a deal, break up rock, measure it out, slip gram bags with what is now an undetectable slight of hand to another user as I pass through a crowd. No more. I've done it. I watched the top of the drug pyramid off the shores of the US saw off a brick of pure uncut cocaine and look at me and say he'd be right back, he was going to cut it and me saying, "weigh it, I'll take it as is." "But it's pure, it's uncut..." and then his brows raise. "Oh. You know how to cut it?" Yeah. I can cut it. Not anymore. I am lucky to be alive and I plan on staying alive for a long, long time. 10:29 p.m. - 2005-10-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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