Clover hearted

Mossy headstones

TW: addiction/substances, depressing stuff, death
A short chapter reflecting on my addiction. Title was chosen rather randomly.

Internal process
You're not going to get this, you know that, right?
There's nothing left for you and you will follow it until the end of you.
You don't stand a chance.
You don't know how you'll figure this out but there's a part of you that is going to give it the effort you gave getting high.
You don't want to die, you don't want to leave as nothing more than an ache and a memory.
You will be good again. I believe you. You can find your way out of this.
You don't even care, you'll end up in a ditch and you'll be the only person who leads yourself there, because that's what you want, right?
This is what you are and all you'll ever be, dilute yourself as much as you'd like you're going to rot in the end, someone will find your body before you are old enough to do any of it.
Today you'll try, it will get easier, you will find a home in yourself, you'll feel like yourself again.
You will have moments in which you know you made it into something worthwhile, you'll learn to love yourself and treat yourself like a human being.

Why do you think so
There is nothing left to ponder and inspect, there are no experiments that need to be revisited and relieved.
The moment I begin I know I am lost to it, I'll run myself into an early grave, there is nothing left for me here.
If it's there it's gone in a matter of moments. I think if I never stop I will die, that one day I'd choke on my vomit and be nothing more than an ache and a memory.
I cannot separate myself from it, even when I am becoming everything I told myself I wouldn't be, even when I know it's senseless.
I'll hold it tightly, I'll hold it so close to my chest that it feels my heart beat, even if it burns holes in my hands, even if I know it's killing me.
As much as some part of me wants to chase the rot I know that this is not what I am looking for, if I carry a bottle or bag with me I cannot be happy, I can tell myself I feel good, but it is a hollow happiness in a house on fire.