Fiending.

I can feel my blood boiling and my temperature rising. The anger is building, and I find myself fighting to keep a sound mind and control over by body. My dependency issues have me fiending for a drink, a blunt, a pill .. anything. As sick as this may sound - this is my reality.

When I was younger whenever I found myself overcome with anger, all I could do was cry. But as the years went by I thought I had grown stronger, when in all actuality I had grown weaker. After the first time my best friend in high school got me blunted, there was no turning back. It was no wonder my parents smoked, that shit felt good. It helped me free my mind and it dismissed the pain .. temporarily. As soon as I could afford it I was smoking everyday as much as I could get my hands on, and as much as my body could consume. But shit, after so long, my thoughts started screaming at me even when I was lifted. I could no longer escape reality. I'm a dependent stoner.

These days, with money spread thin and an effort to better myself, I find myself not smoking .. But drinking. My father used to bartend so he has quite the collection, and with both parents being recovering alcoholics, I'm the only drinker in the house. I used to hate drinking and the feeling it gave me, but after little time of resistance I found myself indulged in a bottle of Skyy Spiced Vodka. Liquor in one hand .. chaser in the other. After that bottle was gone a couple of days later, I came up on an unopened bottle of Absolut Vodka. Needless to say, I cracked that sucker open, sat in front of my computer at night, liquor in one hand .. chaser in the other. Chugging and Chasing. Chugging and Chasing. I'm a dependent drinker.

What's happening to me? As if I didn't already know that my dependency was heightening, I still found a way to convince myself that I was just relieving a little stress, and it would do no harm. Shit. Here I am, sitting here, pissed the fuck off, wishing I could have a drink .. or a blunt. I've considered anger management,  because in all honesty I'm just an angry soul at this point. But from my point of view, the anger is only the surface of the issue. Beneath the surface lies years of .. years of .. SHIT. I don't even know what to call it anymore.

I've convinced myself that I am just feeling sorry for myself and need not press the issue. But the truth is, I am one fucked up individual. Damaged goods. No more useful than a broken promise.

So where do I go from here? I can tell you that I won't stop smoking or drinking anytime soon, fore these are the things that keep me sane. So for now, I guess I'll just continue to eat my thoughts. They keep my plate full and my stomach that much fuller.