Thursday, May 15, 2008
Junkie
"...she went back there to dry out because we figured it would be too tempting to fuck up if we tried to do it together. It was her first habit, so she probably just needed a week at a friend's place with some good food and a truck or two of pills."
-Candy, Luke Davies
*****
There are days where I just don't get it about myself and my dysfunctional coping mechanism. For a long while now, I have stopped being a masochist to my own emotional health and thought I have successfully contained that unhealthy habit of prodding on healing scars, only to re-open and re-visit old wounds and inflicting pain that has a debilitating effect of getting me in one fell sweep. When that happens, I often get engulfed and spiraled into that turmoil of pain and depression. Like one who has taken mind altering substances, my nerves is suspended thinly like the stem of a pendulum bob that swings from one extreme mood of anxiety to another state of delirium. I can get quite manic sometimes. I scare myself there.
*****
I suggest you stay away from the Old Boy. His life seems very messy, someone told me the other day.
Strangely it came from a someone who might well have had the very same intention of the Old boy to acquaint himself deeper into the reel and real life of P.
I thought it was ironic but then again, I observed with slight detachment that it is what it is-people do like dishing advice to people who seem in need of help, sometimes out of good intentions but sometimes simply to seek that "feel good" factor of a purposeful existence.
*****
I have been pleaded by the best friend, V to stop doing what I am doing to myself.
Block the Old Boy on msn and cut him out of your life. Period.
Don't think or rationalise, which V finds me very fond of doing. And so is the consensus from my friends.
*****
I wished I did bite that bullet hard that day and stuck to my guns.
I knew it was a lost cause with the Old Boy the second time I was back home in March.
He had promised to spend that entire Monday with me and we went out shopping.
My time is short as usual and I wanted to close in on some intimate time. I spotted his reluctance and he even suggested us having dinner with another emotionally troubled friend that I got a sense was his way of using her as a time buffer of having to spend time alone with me.
That subtle rejection was causing me way too much pain. I wished he had outrightly decided before my return that we should no longer meet. His proposed plan to set time aside for me the entire day but no intimacy was like dangling me a carrot for a tease. My ego still finds that too hard to bear.
In life, I learnt that there is no such thing as staying close as friends after you enjoy a great intimate fuck. Especially when you feel you have given your heart and soul to that person.
So there I was sulking and being in a growly mood, half the time giving him the cold shoulder or terse answers to questions. I was totally losing it.
At Paragon Mall, we got seated at a cafe and I quickly excused myself to the ladies.
I rang my best friend and told her that I knew our relationship was a lost cause and his subtle rejections of wanting to spend any private intimate time with me was itself THE answer to the fears at the back of my mind. I was crying and in pain.
As level-headed as best friends are wont to be in such situations, V angrily drummed the idea and then calmly decided that I should just walk away. Don't waste precious time in my short weekend trip back home because the Old Boy has already stated that he didn't want to have anything to do with me carnally. He had told her two nights before at my homecoming party to please talk some sense into me. V served me the verdict hard and loud and right there and then in the toilet, I felt sick in the stomach and told her I didn't know what to do with myself. I held on to the little table underneath the vanity mirror for support and thought I could just die there from a broken heart. I was an emotional wreck and didn't know what else to do.
Walk away and leave, she insisted. I couldn't, I couldn't, I sobbed.
You got to, she persisted. Listen, stop doing this to yourself. He is trouble.
Then came the text from the Old Boy, "Baby, are you alright?"
I had to re-composed myself fast and wait for the redness of my tear stained face to calm down before I readied myself. My heart was constricted in pain and I psyched myself hard before I left the ladies.
I would get back to the cafe, finish up my drink and then I would excuse myself to leave. That forward scenario projection was already heart breaking enough but I knew I had to execute it. Heck the aftermath of busting into a dam of tears, possibly in yet another toilet at the nearby hotel. I had to do the right thing by me.
But as plans do, they often fail.
At that instance, I was glad it did.
When we got up finally to leave the cafe given that I was not letting up my cold war with the Old Boy and focusing real hard to do what I needed to do for me, he asked me where we wanted to go next.
Short in tone I went, "Don't know." At the back of my mind, I was deliberating how best to tell him I was leaving. I walked ahead of him quickly.
The Old Boy got ahead of me on the escalators and turned to face me.
"Want to go to suburb XYZ?"
That was music to my ears. It was that secret code to Hotel 81 where we shared many a romp.
I was appeased instantly. My pout turned into a smile and I threw my arms around his neck and we kissed.
"See? That does it." He smiled.
The Old Boy saved the day. I was relieved for that moment. One part of my rationalising mind knew that the win was only short-lived. After all, the Old Boy has always been the weaker character bound to give in to quickly quell a situation for the short-term without persevering with the hard course to achieve longer term goals. If I had to sulk my way for him to want me, this whole deal was not looking great.
*****
That was the last day we ever got intimate again.
It was that same fateful day that I professed those 3 magic words to the Old Boy.
I should have walked away and stick to my course.
As the Chinese saying goes,"To get rid of the grass, once need to weed out the roots." This, really translates into severing all ties.
Harsh and painful but perhaps that's what I needed.
*****
The Old Boy continues to make his presence felt in my life.
Like a drug addict, I am wont to linger.
Some days I grow numb but other days, his words provoked me to pain. I get thrown so off balance by the slightest ripple, I know I am hardly an emotional gymnast so I shouldn't even have taken up the challenge in the first place.
Cold turkey as you know is the only way to wean off all bad habits, piecemeal does nothing really. On occasions, I feel resolute and invincible for days as reforming junkies do; and other days I fall real bad.
My mind still holds onto a final question I have never asked where the question marks hover like my own shadow which I could never shake off.
My problem is my inquisitiveness mind, always wanting to know.
Haven't I already know the answer?
The truth hurts but it may well serve as the hammer that deals the final blow to nail the coffin. I probably need that affirmation or rather, confirmation loud and clear.
Closure- right now, the ringing aura of finality to the word still daunts me. I feel the perpetual constriction of my heart dealing me a long and numbingly painful death. My coping mechanism continues to operate in that masochistic, slow and for-the-journey-esque piecemeal approach to get me through the day to day.
******
"As long as I stop by Tuesday night, then I should be half-OK by Friday night, I reasoned to myself.
By Tuesday I decided I might as well just keep using, get the crop planted, then go to a proper detox (which was the original plan) next week (which wasn't). I decided I would have a big hit just before we left early Saturday morning, and leave my dope at Mason's house, and white-knuckle it for twenty-four hours as a test of strength.
...So it was business as usual Wednesday and Thursday and Friday."
-Candy, Luke Davies
"...she went back there to dry out because we figured it would be too tempting to fuck up if we tried to do it together. It was her first habit, so she probably just needed a week at a friend's place with some good food and a truck or two of pills."
-Candy, Luke Davies
*****
There are days where I just don't get it about myself and my dysfunctional coping mechanism. For a long while now, I have stopped being a masochist to my own emotional health and thought I have successfully contained that unhealthy habit of prodding on healing scars, only to re-open and re-visit old wounds and inflicting pain that has a debilitating effect of getting me in one fell sweep. When that happens, I often get engulfed and spiraled into that turmoil of pain and depression. Like one who has taken mind altering substances, my nerves is suspended thinly like the stem of a pendulum bob that swings from one extreme mood of anxiety to another state of delirium. I can get quite manic sometimes. I scare myself there.
*****
I suggest you stay away from the Old Boy. His life seems very messy, someone told me the other day.
Strangely it came from a someone who might well have had the very same intention of the Old boy to acquaint himself deeper into the reel and real life of P.
I thought it was ironic but then again, I observed with slight detachment that it is what it is-people do like dishing advice to people who seem in need of help, sometimes out of good intentions but sometimes simply to seek that "feel good" factor of a purposeful existence.
*****
I have been pleaded by the best friend, V to stop doing what I am doing to myself.
Block the Old Boy on msn and cut him out of your life. Period.
Don't think or rationalise, which V finds me very fond of doing. And so is the consensus from my friends.
*****
I wished I did bite that bullet hard that day and stuck to my guns.
I knew it was a lost cause with the Old Boy the second time I was back home in March.
He had promised to spend that entire Monday with me and we went out shopping.
My time is short as usual and I wanted to close in on some intimate time. I spotted his reluctance and he even suggested us having dinner with another emotionally troubled friend that I got a sense was his way of using her as a time buffer of having to spend time alone with me.
That subtle rejection was causing me way too much pain. I wished he had outrightly decided before my return that we should no longer meet. His proposed plan to set time aside for me the entire day but no intimacy was like dangling me a carrot for a tease. My ego still finds that too hard to bear.
In life, I learnt that there is no such thing as staying close as friends after you enjoy a great intimate fuck. Especially when you feel you have given your heart and soul to that person.
So there I was sulking and being in a growly mood, half the time giving him the cold shoulder or terse answers to questions. I was totally losing it.
At Paragon Mall, we got seated at a cafe and I quickly excused myself to the ladies.
I rang my best friend and told her that I knew our relationship was a lost cause and his subtle rejections of wanting to spend any private intimate time with me was itself THE answer to the fears at the back of my mind. I was crying and in pain.
As level-headed as best friends are wont to be in such situations, V angrily drummed the idea and then calmly decided that I should just walk away. Don't waste precious time in my short weekend trip back home because the Old Boy has already stated that he didn't want to have anything to do with me carnally. He had told her two nights before at my homecoming party to please talk some sense into me. V served me the verdict hard and loud and right there and then in the toilet, I felt sick in the stomach and told her I didn't know what to do with myself. I held on to the little table underneath the vanity mirror for support and thought I could just die there from a broken heart. I was an emotional wreck and didn't know what else to do.
Walk away and leave, she insisted. I couldn't, I couldn't, I sobbed.
You got to, she persisted. Listen, stop doing this to yourself. He is trouble.
Then came the text from the Old Boy, "Baby, are you alright?"
I had to re-composed myself fast and wait for the redness of my tear stained face to calm down before I readied myself. My heart was constricted in pain and I psyched myself hard before I left the ladies.
I would get back to the cafe, finish up my drink and then I would excuse myself to leave. That forward scenario projection was already heart breaking enough but I knew I had to execute it. Heck the aftermath of busting into a dam of tears, possibly in yet another toilet at the nearby hotel. I had to do the right thing by me.
But as plans do, they often fail.
At that instance, I was glad it did.
When we got up finally to leave the cafe given that I was not letting up my cold war with the Old Boy and focusing real hard to do what I needed to do for me, he asked me where we wanted to go next.
Short in tone I went, "Don't know." At the back of my mind, I was deliberating how best to tell him I was leaving. I walked ahead of him quickly.
The Old Boy got ahead of me on the escalators and turned to face me.
"Want to go to suburb XYZ?"
That was music to my ears. It was that secret code to Hotel 81 where we shared many a romp.
I was appeased instantly. My pout turned into a smile and I threw my arms around his neck and we kissed.
"See? That does it." He smiled.
The Old Boy saved the day. I was relieved for that moment. One part of my rationalising mind knew that the win was only short-lived. After all, the Old Boy has always been the weaker character bound to give in to quickly quell a situation for the short-term without persevering with the hard course to achieve longer term goals. If I had to sulk my way for him to want me, this whole deal was not looking great.
*****
That was the last day we ever got intimate again.
It was that same fateful day that I professed those 3 magic words to the Old Boy.
I should have walked away and stick to my course.
As the Chinese saying goes,"To get rid of the grass, once need to weed out the roots." This, really translates into severing all ties.
Harsh and painful but perhaps that's what I needed.
*****
The Old Boy continues to make his presence felt in my life.
Like a drug addict, I am wont to linger.
Some days I grow numb but other days, his words provoked me to pain. I get thrown so off balance by the slightest ripple, I know I am hardly an emotional gymnast so I shouldn't even have taken up the challenge in the first place.
Cold turkey as you know is the only way to wean off all bad habits, piecemeal does nothing really. On occasions, I feel resolute and invincible for days as reforming junkies do; and other days I fall real bad.
My mind still holds onto a final question I have never asked where the question marks hover like my own shadow which I could never shake off.
My problem is my inquisitiveness mind, always wanting to know.
Haven't I already know the answer?
The truth hurts but it may well serve as the hammer that deals the final blow to nail the coffin. I probably need that affirmation or rather, confirmation loud and clear.
Closure- right now, the ringing aura of finality to the word still daunts me. I feel the perpetual constriction of my heart dealing me a long and numbingly painful death. My coping mechanism continues to operate in that masochistic, slow and for-the-journey-esque piecemeal approach to get me through the day to day.
******
"As long as I stop by Tuesday night, then I should be half-OK by Friday night, I reasoned to myself.
By Tuesday I decided I might as well just keep using, get the crop planted, then go to a proper detox (which was the original plan) next week (which wasn't). I decided I would have a big hit just before we left early Saturday morning, and leave my dope at Mason's house, and white-knuckle it for twenty-four hours as a test of strength.
...So it was business as usual Wednesday and Thursday and Friday."
-Candy, Luke Davies
