Six Hours Left to Shake

Oh, looky looky. It's me one year ago. Sometimes I have to wonder... Ugh. Funny how going back ON a drug feels exactly the way junkies going through withdrawal are depicted. And yes, this one is prescribed. But seriously, I have to be at work in less than seven hours and I am so tired...too bad my heart doesn't want to calm down and my body doesn't want to warm up and I can't stop thinking, thinking how I'd rather be locked up in a room for three? five? ten? days agonizing over my body's need for smack and then have it be over and done with...I can handle pain and hallucinations but not feeling like a strung-out emotional basket-case whose fifty-year-old aunt is suddenly anti-lesbian and carrying around a pregnancy test in her purse, a nut-job whose father lied to her about sneaking up through Nebraska to see Psycho Bitch from Hell (I think I called her "Hag" in my journal when I was in eighth grade and he had first moved in with her) and is starting something up with her again, thus deducting time from our visit together, after we got into a car accident (he rear-ended me) on the slippery lake road that he and the aforementioned aunt insisted I drive on to spend the night on a cold, narrow sofa at my uncle's cabin where they are staying instead of driving home where I can call my mother (the one responsible for making me play the part of the Wandering Jew, that evil-ass sinner nobody wants knocking on their door) and have her NOT listen to a word I say. Yeah...I think I'm gonna make some fried rice. Makes sense that I'm hungry because nothing I eat stays with me. Work tomorrow, of course...nice that it's with Nikki but I don't want her hounding me about going on a blind date with some guy she knows when my sheets and pillows and anything you can lean against still smell sooo nice and Mikely, so much that it makes my throat tighten up and I get this weird hollow pain in my chest. God I miss my Katy. I need my Katy, Meggie too. I wish Meg and I had stayed closer after high school. Stuff happened senior year and while we were travelling immediately after that really hurt, stuff she probably doesn't even know about. Sometimes I wish I weren't so sensitive. I'd be a much better friend if I could just shrug shit off and get rid of my complex that everyone is trying to get rid of me.