i will try my best to explain my recent hiatus from posting. it's a long and complicated story so i will attempt to keep it as brief and simple as i can. it was a chilly day in october when i went over to my good friend john's house to do some work in his bathroom and popping many pills in the process. he had a hole in his shower wall, the drywall needed to be replaced and tiles placed over it. i did what needed to be done, although i don't remember doing it. he had been feeding me 1mg xanax since i walked in the door and i gladly accepted them.
john and i had been selling pills together for about 6 years up until this point. this was a very regular day with him, he was a very generous guy. we always shared whatever we had with each other, "what's mine is yours." anyway, after this handyman job i woke up three days later from a blackout, on the couch in my living room. when i woke up, the first thing i remember is that john had overdosed and died right after i had left. it was either later that night or the next day. i found it weird that after not seeing him for over a year, he dies almost immediately after seeing me. i know that doesn't mean anything, but it definitely makes you think and wonder. i was very shocked when he died, but i guess i am desensitized to deaths like this. they don't affect me too much at all. people around me have been dropping like flies since i was 17, so it's not anything new unfortunately. it was a closer friend than usual, but still it didn't hit me as hard as it should've. i loved the dude with all my heart. maybe i've just become accustom to death, especially when it's a drug user. but i also have always found it hard to be sad when a family member dies, even if i really liked them. i can think back to when i was a kid and my aunt and uncle died. i loved them very much, but i struggled to "be sad" when they passed away. the same thing happened with my grandfather. i found myself literally trying to be sad. it's very strange and i am unsure what could be the cause. am i just so wrapped up in myself that i am incapable of feeling true pain unless i am directly hurt? is it that i have such a knack for dissociation that i don't even know that i'm doing it, and that it comes naturally to me at this point? while i don't fully buy into Janet's theory of dissociation, but it definitely is a real thing to an extent, but i'm not sure how deep it goes. it likely depends on the person.
i was very excited to begin hanging out with john again, i knew that he was using, but he seemed very healthy when i saw him in person for the first time in over a year. i had relapsed the day before he died, and used for a few days after he passed, so my memory of the chaos is rather chaotic. the bottom line is that i've been insanely depressed for the past 12 months. depression hits you in waves, but i had no idea it could hit as hard as it has been for this last year. i've barely been able to shower, or brush my teeth. mustering up the motivation to do pretty much anything feels like climbing a large mountain. i have left the house less in the last year than i have in some weeks when i was my normal self. i didn't even go to my friend's funeral, and i hate myself for it. the thought of going there, seeing my dead friend, seeing all of his family and friends, i just wasn't in the mind state at the time. but looking back, i should have just bit the bullet and went and i wish i had.
following his passing, his mother, who used to sell pills with him, has been calling me asking to find her a cheap supply of pills, because after the death she was left with a lot of debt. i haven't supplied her with said pills yet though, it's something i'm contemplating. this woman lost 2 children to drugs, how do i feel about supplying her with more? i mean, i understand the necessity, people need money. and when you have a tried and true method of getting it, it's hard to stop doing it.
i don't know if i love how complicated life is, or i hate it. on one hand it's never boring, on the other, almost nothing is simple. and of all the things on God's earth that are complicated, people take the prize for being best at it. who knows exactly what was going through Jon's mind that evening. i have an idea, i have a pretty good guess, but i could never know for sure, and i could never ask him, at least not in this life. people feel, and it makes us complicated. a computer seems complicated to an idiot, but it's just a lot of circuits, some on, some off. people are nothing like that. we hurt. i tried journaling to get out my thoughts because i absolutely despise therapy and the medical field in general, but i found that journaling is gay and i felt like i was talking to no one. i like doing this much better. even if no one read this website, it would still feel like people did, by nature of it having a .com at the end of it. it's just a feeling, and it's complicated.
R.I.P. Jon