Im here in my second home in Scotland.
I am depressed.
Those two situations rarely happen at the same time. And when they do, I have a habit of blaming a sudden drop in dopamine on a recent come down and look forward to the next night of getting on it.
I am sober. There will be no option for ‘other stuff’ this week.
A moment of clarity as I remember that I can’t run away from my problems. I remember I am who I am regardless of where I am.
This moment of sitting looking out the window watching the sun rise, reminds me that mundane life exists everywhere.
And in that moment I have realised something else. It is not Scotland I miss or even love. Nor is it C. Nor is it alcohol and drugs. It’s feeling like I am part of something. Whatever is going on, I want to be in the middle of it.
I thought I was so clever. Only doing things I shouldn’t in Scotland, that way I wont get addicted. I am addicted. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Is it any wonder I am sick? Is it any wonder I am exhausted? I work 11 hour days during term time. Then, whilst others spend their holidays recharging their batteries, I spend my holidays pushing my blood pumper to breaking point with narcotics and no sleep.
I always knew I’d have to choose a life one day and stick with it. I just always thought that I would have tomorrow. I’m running out of tomorrows.
FaerieFalls 