Hell Around

 All of the meth must be out of my system. My fucked up dopamine receptors are triggering the RLS again. Back to sleepless nights. At least when I was on meth, I had no interest in sleeping. I had energy and I could do stuff. Even if it was stupid meaningless stuff. During my three months of sobriety before my recent relapse, the only way I could sleep was if I pushed through and gave up the idea of sleep for 3-4 days.

I’ve always struggled with insomnia. But after 30 hours of being awake, I could crash. Meaning, I could get some sleep eventually at some point. My circadian rhythm was always off though, which is one of the reasons I have had difficulty maintaining a job.

I don’t know what else to say, so here. I’ll share a text I sent to a friend.

My whole life is riddled with bad choices. If there were betting tables available every time I had a choice to make, betting on the wrong choice, no matter how right it seemed would be a sure bet. There is nothing in reality, nothing in existence that is as consistent as my life fucking up. That is the only and most consistent thing I can think of. 

I was dumb, naive and a moron to think this was going to be different. But everything in my track record would tell you I would fall for it again. “If I do the right thing, things will work out for me.” You’ve known me for how long? How many times just this year have I acted in a way that was consistent with that thinking? And how often has it happened to be true? 

It’s a billion to zip. Zilch. Nada. No matter what I do, right or wrong, it’s not meant for me to be okay. It never will be. I’m playing a loser’s game. I’m a loser. At life, at relationships, at success, even fucking and video games. 

Sleep should be the singular area I can go to for escape and even then I am a failure. Hell wouldn’t allow for a tortured soul to spend 6 hours in peace every night. Right? Why do I think it should be different? Because I buy into the false narrative that people keep feeding me. But that is consistent with hell as well.  It’s beautiful if you think about it. Like that show that was on so many years ago. Put someone in hell, don’t let them know they’re in hell, give them false hope, and encourage them to keep going. No escape. Just watch them suffer and suffer and struggle and fail. Watch as they keep fighting and trying. Keep doing right and getting wrong. 

Hell isn’t full of fire and brimstone.  Whatever brimstone is. Hell is cold. It’s dark. It’s lonely. Hell is thinking you’ll be okay and knowing you’re just lying to yourself. Hell is imagining everyone is rooting for you and in actuality, they’re all just as imaginary as the hope and dreams that keep you going.

I’m sorry.