Brain Mush

This has been building up in my psyche for the past couple months.

Forgive me if it is incoherent or just a wall-of-text.

I don’t want this isolation, see the state I’m in now. ~ Gorillaz “Humility”

I’m lonely. Deep in my soul, long dark tea-time, kinda lonely. It’s becoming increasingly overwhelming and unbearable. For most of my life, I’ve been alone and quite comfortable existing in that space. I had friends around and even lived with my sister for a good chunk of my adult life, so I wasn’t lonely. I picked and chose the times I would spend with others and otherwise would keep to myself. I am an introvert, tried and true. But I still had pretty consistent human interactions with those I cared for. But then… my meth use became known. The events of 2018 went down and I did my tour of mental health in-patient. I gave rehab a try and discovered that sobriety doesn’t fit me well.

When I came out on the other side of 2018, I found that those I care for had labeled me a meth-head and had ascribed the prototypical negative weight of that term to me. The time spent around them felt heavy with judgment and disappointment. I couldn’t adequately convey to them that I was still the same David they were used to dealing with. The fact was that the me “back then” that they felt had changed hadn’t changed at all. I was using meth pretty regularly back then, it just wasn’t a Known Thing. The addition of the Known Thing seemed to only change their view of me. For me, the Known Thing only deepened my need to be allowed in the inner-zones I used to inhabit. I wasn’t allowed to be alone at my parent’s house anymore. Requests to go and do things with my god-nieces were redirected and subtly denied. My sister stopped returning my calls and texts.

… I am aware that my word-vomit can come across as I think that I not culpable in any fashion for the current state of my relationships. That is not the case. I regularly ditched family or friends in order to go party naked somewhere. I took literal ages to return my mother’s calls. I am not blameless. I just wish that my near and dears hadn’t been so quick to view me through the lens of the stereotypical tweaker.