And I Am Drowning in My Own Feces
Sleep deprivation is quite interesting, as it legally allows you to have hallucinations with very little effort. And not just visual and auditory ones, but also exaggerated paranoia and a strong feeling of confusion and disconnection. Combined with stress, those factors can be the direct cause of my panic seizures. And well, these weren’t just attacks, but literal seizures. Muscles clenched in spasm, lungs hyperventilating, and me lying on the ground because I always lose balance. Not the consciousness, though. I am never as scared in my life as I am during these seizures. Twice they got me when I had an opened bottle of liquid in my hand… so the liquid ended on my hair, face, t-shirt, pants, and the ground. You were just playing that, idiot. The stress has entangled my stomach, so I can’t eat nearly anything, and ironically, I found out that almost the only way I can force myself to eat properly is after I get high from the weed oil.
What was rather concerning than interesting was the fact that I abused the weed oil to stop an exhausting argument on home ground, which was happening through the whole weekend night, and to finally declare a truce. I can’t say the oil didn’t work. It worked well, way too well. If you have ever taken care of someone who is barely able to stand up from the bed and who keeps vomitting unexpectedly, you know what I mean. But the most heartbreaking fact was that his brain was offline too. Taught by various human anatomy YouTube channels, I was able to quickly verify my hypothesis by observing his pupil response. There are no words that could accurately describe how hopeless I felt when I was trying to understand one single word for the whole minute. And those eyes… gosh, I have never seen so much fear in someone’s eyes like I did on that day. That emotion in his eyes was ripping my heart out of my chest. I was responsible for his health condition, and I was so scared. What have I done?! For fucks sake! Yap, you fucked him over so badly that he should take legal action against you.
You know, I don’t even remember the argument or what it was all about. I am pretty sure I caused it because of how emotionally unstable I’ve become. Every time I am able to observe the changes in my behavior, I sense it, I smell it, and I see and hear it, but I can’t act? My body just runs on a self-destructive autopilot, and I can’t take over the control. I have a theory that the more I’ve educated myself about mental illnesses, the more I am scared that I am suffering from some of them. I know that my brain is not healthy. It has always been divergent. And now it is doing weird things that I don’t understand, and no one else does either. So I am looking for answers while I’m distracted by being frightened of losing my sanity for good.
What Would You Guess, My Friend
If you read this, this part is specifically for you. I am so sorry for this 😦 I don’t even hope you could forgive me…
The worst part about it is that I knew this was going to happen. I experienced exactly the same effect with this weed oil when I confused the concentration percent on the label and took twice the intended dose. I regretted it immediately when it hit you, and you asked me for help on Telegram at 7 in the morning. Every single minute, I was observing how the drug was ramping up on you. You begged me to help you, and you cried, but I couldn’t. There is no antidote for cannabinoids.
I have never felt so hopeless. At the same time, I felt a strong sense of hatred against myself for doing this to you. For the whole 24 hours, I was looking after you, checking on you every few minutes, until I started to see improvements in your health condition. I’ve collapsed around the 97-hour mark of my own uptime, shortly after you finally fell asleep. You told me you didn’t remember it, but at one moment, I accidentally woke you up. I carefully got up when you were sleeping and went back to my room, only to sit in the chair and break down mentally. I was shedding tears and speaking to myself loudly, “Don’t play that song, please. I don’t want to!” But I hit play and listened to it. It was this nearly forgotten song from my youth, which I now have a strong emotional bond with:
At that moment, a waterfall of tears poured from my eyes, and my voice strings resonated loudly. I couldn’t help myself, but I wasn’t able to mute myself, and that woke you up. You used up the remaining bits of your energy to get up from the couch and walk across the whole living room. Then you crossed the hall just to enter my room and found me there, swimming in my own tears. I quickly ran to you when I noticed you and started escorting you back to the couch. And then another waterfall of tears filled my field of vision when I realized I had put a positive wake-up 10-hour sleep music video to play on the TV, as well as our fursuit heads on the table next to each other. Because I was thinking that the first thing you would see after opening your eyes would be our fursuit heads next to each other, which would make you feel safe and at home. Just realizing what I was able to cover and think of under such emotional pressure got me so weak. Those 24 hours were terrifying and beautiful at the same time. Terrifying because of what in fact has happened, and beautiful because I was able to remind myself what it is like to really take care of someone with my whole heart.
One big gulp of bitter shite to swallow, ain’t it? Pretty disgusting from me indeed, despite your consent. Plus, it feels intentional, so you get extra credit for disgusting the readers. Well done! And I wish this was the ugliest thing that I managed to happen lately, but it was not. I couldn’t hold my emotions on the leash, and I’ve released a big burst of my love hate in the most vengeful way possible, by spreading gossip about you to your friends and by breaking your relationships with at least three people and possibly with those you don’t even know yet. I promised you to try to fix the damage I caused, so here is my attempt.
I apologize to you and everyone affected for causing this drama between friends, and I take full responsibility for it.
How Can This Come to an End?
I don’t know. I am still standing on the dark crossroad with the dark pathways, either left or right. I am stuck, unable to move, and to survive, I started daydreaming in my own world, where all the things turned out how they were originally intended to be and where I am happy. My depression has come back, and the remaining antidepressants, which I still possess, did not fit me well. That is what a pair of therapists, whom we managed to visit twice, said about my experience. And I ran out of psychiatrists that I could visit in a reasonable time. I have been disconnected from reality since that moment, and I have somewhat lost sense of it by confusing dreams with memories. I lost track of good and evil, morals and ethics, day and night, opposite and similar. I feel like dancing on the gravitational waves generated by merging black holes, but at the same time I feel like not really belonging anywhere. I’ve been struggling to keep myself in sync with the world’s date and time. I am constantly lost in FOMO thoughts. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that is how it feels to me.
Buuuuullshiiiit! Don’t believe his gibbering! He is a great whiner, but he hasn’t moved a finger! His only life successes were the apex of his work career and quitting weed, kratom, alcohol, nicotine, and caffeine. You already relapsed to weed, and I expect you to relapse to kratom until the end of the year. Watch!
Shut up! I’ve been stuck the whole time, but so far, this mental blockage of mine has revealed only a little. Liar! You know well the source of it 😛 Okay, I think, th… Alright, this isn’t planned, but I am using this occasion to show you one of my short memory outages, which can be frequently seen as me forgetting a sentence in the middle. Either a spoken or written one. Do you remember the old cathode-ray TVs and how people were hitting them to fix the image shifting? I always want to do this to my head whenever the brain lags like this… Let me try again. Deep inside me, I know I’ve started to believe that my only chance to resolve this crossroads issue is to wait for a Higher Power to interfere. But I tend to not give such thoughts enough space to express themselves because they are so disgusting I can’t even write what they are about.
I do even realize very well that I am writing this blog post only to draw attention from my surroundings, but hey, I am really pushing myself to be as honest to myself as I was back in February. And yes, it is true that I would appreciate a little piece of your attention. Maybe an opinion, love or hate, or both, or anything. I do realize that publishing this text will not help me with my problems, but I hope it will persist as documentation of the impact of the 2-year abuse of kratom and later on alcohol and synthethic cannabinoids on the human brain.
Actually, he is right about this. If you want a reality show to watch, then go watch Taiku’s life. You will get unlimited content for free, hahaha!
I am not giving up, though. In fact, I don’t really want to die because I am a pussy, so I technically can’t give up. Okay, sometimes yes, I do want to die, but only to ease the pain I am experiencing at the given moment. Please don’t leave me alone in the dark. I am so scared to move, even to make a sound...
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