What happened was: I failed.

Stories about failing are many, and easy to tell. I’ll get around to spinning a yarn or two in good time, don’t worry – but think of this as a mere sugar lump in the Costco candy aisle of failure.

My doctor finally returned the email in which I had requested a referral for Belmont (the methadone clinic very close to my home; of course she obliged) – they won’t allow their precious pink juice to pass my lips without it. Of course she obliged, so that’s a bit of a relief. I have enough proper medicines to help ease the various symptoms of opiate withdrawal to give a solo quit one more serious attempt before I jump onto the magic juice cart. I need to strongly consider whether I want to be tied down in the way that methadone ties one down, especially given the kinds of plans and daydreams I’ve been making – the itch to drive, and do so spontaneously and perhaps prolongedly.. yes, much thought is needed.

My mood has positively skyrocketed when compared to what it was a day ago. Not altogether sure what it means, but it certainly feels better to be in a stupidly good mood than a catatonically-depressed one. It may be nothing more than the relief of having been to work a couple days straight and the vanishing of related uncertainties and paranoias. Knowing me, that is all it is. [9:37pm]


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