I am so incredibly stupid for dealing with this. I have a career and a life and I don’t deserve this.
Everything we love fails, I didn’t tell my students,
if by fails we mean ends or changes,
if by love we mean what sustains us.
Language is what honors the vanishing.
Or is language what slows the leaving?
Or does it only deepen what we know of loss?
Inside us, constellations,
bit thread knotted into night’s black drape.
There are no right words,
if by right we mean perfect,
if by perfect we mean able to save us.
It is my friend herself who is fragile.
When I take her out to eat, each step is work.
The restaurant is loud and bright.
She wants to know if she looks normal.
I make my words soft. Fine,
which might be the most useless word in English,
everything is going to be fine.
-Excerpts from “The Failure of Language” by Jacqueline Berger
Today I found out that my boyfriend was up all night arranging an escort service. This did not actually take place, but I’m at a crossroads. If i make him leave, he is essentially on the street. He gets too high on this designer research chemical to the point that he loses all control of his mind. yesterday i had to explain to him how to brush his teeth. He still couldn’t get it.
He refuses to admit that he has a drug problem even though he was catatonic for about 30 minutes yesterday. The stress of caring for an infant-like drug addict is making me sicker and sicker. And then the prostitute thing. I can’t let it go, and it gives me so much anxiety that I could claw all my skin off just to get away.
This was by far the bright spot. Unfortunately I’m losing one of my favorite associates, but this is from his resignation letter:
As my supervisor, you’ve been amazing! You’ve always been there for any of my needs, even when you weren’t in office. With confidence, I knew you were only one call, one text, or one email away. For example, I remember when you came back to work one evening to resolve any issues or frustrations I had that particular evening. That action speaks volume for the Supervisor you are; you’ve been very approachable and accessible for each and every member of your team. As a team, have been lucky. I don’t think we’ve really had the opportunity to thank you for all you’ve done and for everything you will do for the team.
A lot of no good, very terrible, bad things happened this weekend. For the sake of this post, though I’m only going to focus on Cory Monteith, the star of Glee, who died of an apparent drug overdose on Saturday in his hotel room.
TMZ ran some garbage the other day that said something like, “OMG, what a shock! Here’s a picture of Cory Monteith looking happy and healthy just a few weeks before he died. How could it be?!”
This made my blood boil because, despite all the information that’s out there about addiction, people still have this image of addicts being complete train wrecks, whizzing through life barefoot, disheveled and insane when, in fact, it’s often the opposite. Addiction can look like anything. It can look happy and healthy and productive and loving and kind and a hard worker. That’s what so chilling about the disease. You…
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Roxicodone (Roxy, for short) comes in tiny blue pills. So tiny, in fact, that I would often lose them in my room and not find it until weeks later. Misplacing your drugs is always the worst feeling, but you could take solace in knowing that you would find them again when you were least expecting it and it would be the best surprise ever. That spec of blue would come in the corner of your eye on a Monday afternoon and you’d start jumping for joy. “Could it be?! Oh my god! I’m so lucky!” Right. Lucky.
Roxies weren’t my favorite though. I only took them when I started to worry about my liver. Unlike Percocet, which was my drug of choice, Roxies contained no acetaminophen, so it was “better for you” to ingest them, less harsher on the body. Most of the drug users I knew would freebase Roxy…
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I’m definitely in a flare right now. My rheumatologist sent me to a neurologist for some of the most painful tests I’ve ever experienced. Not sure if that’s what set this off or what. My original pain was in my lower legs and knees only–it’s now shooting up my legs and I keep getting random twinge pains in my arms and torso.
Mentally, I’m in a haze. It takes every ounce of energy I have to work. By the time I get home, there’s chores, life, etc. All of my friends have stopped asking me to hang out because they know I’ll turn them down. Unfortunately, it’s true. But no one stops to think how much this illness affects my quality of life. They assume I’m being lazy or distant. If I could give this to them for 1 hour, they would never bother me again.
My heart/chest joints (not sure which honestly) have been giving me a hell of a time as well. I really wish the doctor would give me a medicine that works. The Gabapentin I’ve been on for a month is a joke but I don’t want to stop taking it until I go back to see her which is in 3 weeks.
On another bright, sunshiny note, my teeth continue to break and each crown is upwards of $1000. I’m throwing myself further into debt with every tiny piece of porcelain. This is quite the week.