The universe has a fucked up sense of humor. I feel like I am just getting piled on from all sides. Today, my roommate asked me from my urine for a job UA. I said “no”. For all my questionable decisions, I have a blanket policy of never doing that for anyone nor will I ever ask anyone to do it for me.
My running partner from January, E, reported that she had a ‘slip’. We’ve been trying to touch base, telephonically, but have been unable to do so yet.
I talked a lot with J and S after the meeting. They’re super supportive and said all the right things. I just felt guilty because I feel like I might do something unskillful (relapse, run, both… God, why is that shit in my head) and let them, and everyone else, down.
And I go back to that shitty email my dad sent me a few weeks ago and, I guess, I have compassion? Because, maybe he’s confused? He thinks I want to be like this, that I want to be an addict and eating disordered and all that shit. He just doesn’t get that it makes me absolutely miserable. I do drugs because the suffering becomes so unbearable that I become willing to throw everything away just to get a tiny amount of temporary relief. It’s no way to live.