off the rails with weed again

Well, fuck. I went off the rails with weed again. I did get some work done since my last post, but not very much. I smoked that whole ounce. I had a plan to stop at half and give the other half away to a friend, but I couldn’t (or didn’t) leave it the cabinet. Now it’s gone.

This is my second fully sober day, and it was a difficult day. I did manage to keep working all day. Got lots of carpet glued down in the van, and put up some more of the rattle-trap on the ceiling. It was hot, humid, and rainy all day.

So, I failed with moderate weed use. I am putting it down for a year, and then I’ll try again to use in moderation. And I’ll only grab an 1/8th rather than an ounce, so that if I fail in my attempt at moderation, it’ll all be gone sooner.

I smelled some weed smoke walking down the street yesterday, and it smelled so good. I’d love to be able to use at least that drug in moderation.

But it just cost me fucking weeks of work at a critical time in my life. That’s not OK at all. As I said about booze, I’ve cut women out of my life for less.

I’ve been fucked up today. Sadness, wasted time, and loss. A lot of this is the actual drug withdrawal, and a lot of it is realistic assessment of my drug abuse problem. I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been in much, much worse places. It helps to remember how much better things are now, even if it’s still frustrating that I’m not where I want to be.

Been doing lots of emotional work today. Been reminding myself that everything is OK (in some sense, on some level). It’s a good mantra.

I’ve had little calls of, “Help me,” bubbling up in my mind. It’s something my body wants to say, like how I sometimes still have the impulse to pray. Elder Plops thinks that’s OK.

This raises an issue: I want to be in therapy. This requires me to be in one place most of the time. So I guess it’s not gonna happen for a while. Maybe I can find an online therapist that can help, and is covered by my insurance.

Had a female voice assert itself today to say, “We’re connected.” My immediate response was to interpret this as an attack. All creation seemed to rebel at my interpretation, so I though about it. It was clear that I wasn’t doing well, and that I wanted to be alone, In that context, the assertion has some of the same tone as, “I can touch you, even if you don’t want me to.” And that was the problem for me. It’s a true statement, and it’s not an attack in and of itself, but in the context of where I was, I interpret it as a deliberate violation of a boundary. I did manage to check my emotional reaction, though. I didn’t go completely off the rails with anger and bitterness.

Still doing lots of exposure therapy type work with the intrusive thoughts. It helps. It made things better, even when I was off the rails with weed, which is remarkable. Less reliving of past trauma (less, not none). So…fucking right on.

Spent some money at Lowe’s today (mostly buying a hacksaw so I can cut this metal angle I have and install it as flooring), and also spent about 175 on a kit that will let me install a 4-pin connector for the brake lights and turn signals on a trailer. The whole trailer install is running me almost 400 now. All of it is from

Spent a lot of money over the last month on my weed binge. Spent money on weed, on take-out and delivery, and on some video games. Well over 500 on all that stuff combined (the weed was 400 after taxes). That’s so fucking ridiculous right now. Le sigh.