I’m in the wrong session of rehab. Then again I shouldn’t be here at all, but I’m forced to come in. Every minute of every day.Enduring the slow, agonizing ‘progress’ of my abstinence. No detoxification plan, no decrease in doses; Complete and absolute withdrawal and I’m meant to some how recuperate. They must not know the depths of my problem. The commitment. My addiction and the heartache it’s absence brings. They must hate me to keep me from it. To convince me to refrain.
“FUCK RECOVERY !” Those sweet, sweet words, almost meaningless as they promise nothing but uncertainty and torment. I can empathize with my pride no longer. My medulla oblongata won’t have it ! Remove me from this shameful intervention. I don’t want to be here. I’m not crazy, I just need another hit.