Old Stuff
This is something I wrote when I was 16 years old. I had just spent one week in detox at a local hospital, and was supposed to go three times a week for out-patient treatment. I went for one day, and then I went on the run. This is what I wrote after my first 'fix' while on the run. I was in the back bedroom of an abandoned apartment, my only possesion being my notebook.

-7/7/97-
I have become good at a lot of things; fucking up, coning people out of money, drugs, or whatever I want from them. and disappearing. The drugs make it so fucking easy to forget the important things in my life, like my family (sister, Keith, etc.) and the few good friends I actually had. I say had because they really don't want to be fucked over anymore by me since I have become a junkie. And that’s what I am, a fucking lying, stealing, heartless drug addict junkie. I'm sorry for what I've done, I do have some kind of heart left. Maybe a little distorted, but it's functioning some what.
I don't blame them for giving up on me. Hell, I gave up on me a long time ago. What majorly hurts though, is that I know I'm actually all alone. They aren’t going to be there anymore. Not to listen or give advice and tell me what I'm doing wrong (even though they told me a thousand times and I still didn't listen). No more support whether it be mentally or financially. And most of all, no more love. No tears nor laughter, smiles, jokes, conversations, you name it, it's gone. All because my fucked up mind thinks that it needs drugs to survive. I know that I'm really majorly addicted when I can't stay clean through two whole months of treatment, even though I realize it's something I need.
Why am I such a fucked up, low life, self centered, greedy junkie? At what point did I lose all perception of reality and responsibility to become what I am now? I can't turn back either. They gave me one chance to prove I could do it. Everyone supported me on the good thing, staying sober, getting a job & car, etc. I felt so much love and acceptance, something I missed so very much. But I threw it all away. For the needle I have lost my family, my ability to be trusted and helped out by those that really did give a fuck about me. And to top it all off, I have to hide out from everyone now. I can't call or visit my sister or Keith without them locking me up in some treatment facility somewhere at least 100 or so miles away.
And I think I'm alone now?! HA! Everyone would forget about me, if I got sent away for at least two months and wasn't able to at least call. What use would I be to anyone? Even if I went through with it, I would be more alone when I got out. I'd hate my life so much and probably want to die so bad that I would actually do it. But I don't want to die. Life may not be perfect, but that’s no reason to end it. I feel so lost and lonely. At least for right now I can actually live, maybe not totally happy, but free. If they take the few things I have left in this world, I will want to end it. Please don't let it happen.
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