The amount that my body is shaking was something I had never experienced before. I had never been so cold or wrapped in the world of drugs to an extent where a come down was so violent that my body would shake outside of it's own reality like I was going through at this very moment. Ed holds me close as Margie continues to read my words about the man who cause this backyard gathering. A gathering of people who did not even know Jeb's real name.
I can't see the point of sobriety without someone special to share it with. I cannot see the point of good drugs without someone to indulge in the wicked hype. Without laughter, all is void anyway. Jeb was my sobriety that was wrapped in severe alcoholism. It was 6 months of drinking and while he had plunged into every sort of Hospice wonder that was offered, I had to remain steady in order to drive him home, put him to bed, or take him to the hospital if need be. It was now all over... and now I get to think about me.
Me.
I had drugs available, but the only person I wanted to share them with had died. Sobriety could continue, but the amount of alcohol and the cloud of coke that bellowed up seemed impossible to ignore. Why would I want to avoid this indulgence anyway? I spent 6 months in the "REAL" and the now. I don't want the real and now. I don't want to be here with this memorial service, have my words spoken by a stranger, being held so tightly that standing up was s default. I want to collapse. I want to fall down. I want to dive into a world of white and brown and let my brain have a vacation... so that for once it was not the driving force pulling the cart of circumstances but rather in the back seat being driven around on some sort of leisurely psychotic tour. I want a vacation that allows my senses to play.
I wasn't giving up. I was the mysterious 'man in black' that showed up in August and suddenly their crabby, scruffy DJ was secluded away, laughing, joking, and being... HUMAN. Now I stand in a backyard memorial service where everyone was going to use this death as an excuse for drinking, snorting, going fully naked and dive into the pool of sorrows. I didn't want any of this. I didn't see the point in any of this.
I didn't need an excuse. Frankly, there was no excuse. I just wanted to breathe. I NEED to breathe. There is a yellow sun above my head that hurt and with a blue pulsing inside of me I just wanted to curl up with whatever external chemicals I could get my hands on and give my brain a fucking rest. My reality is so loud and now it had come to a screeching halt. It was as if the first wave of a tsunami had completed it's run and the debris-filled waves of the after had caught up. It was overwhelming and devastating and I had nothing to grasp onto in order to steady myself. The helpless feeling of the finality is only trumped by the uncontrolled realization that there is no finality.
What point is there in sobriety without someone to share it with? I am lonelier than I had been in all my years of being out. It was invigorating to the regular person, but it was exhausting and deflating to me and I was in need of a break. My brain needed a break. The blue inside me was pulsing at an increasing rate. What the fuck was in the box? I don't know. I don't want to know.
I want to know but I don't want to know RIGHT NOW. At this moment it is more important to breathe and to sustain life than to understand and exhale the final bit of life.
Time to heal. Time to acknowledge. Time to simply be. We are human after all. We have progressed faster in our mental and emotional evolution than our physical bodies could possibly keep up with, so there is nothing that states that we can mentally and emotionally handle such speedy evolution with our brain wiring being hundreds of years behind.
I want out... just of a moment, a minute, a second even. My brain needs rest.
This damn shaking. I can't stop shaking. Through the smiles and tears... is no one seeing this vibration. This is me in reality - it's called collapse. And I did so.
Blue. So much blue light. What was in the box?
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