Hope Methodone

I woke up with my usual panic attack and went to the bathroom. It was freezing and I wondered how cold it was at your place and if you were asleep yet. I knew I didn't get any 4 am messages. I would have managed to wake up for that.

I think it as the cold that made me get back in bed. I fell back a sleep, which is a miracle in itself, but then you were there in my dream.

You came over. Instantly your clothes were gone. It was great until I realized after the fun that you guitar didn't come with. I must have taken it as a sign and I got upset and you were gone again.

I woke up in a panic and have been crying sense.

And this is without Facebook.

I really am trying to write other things. My new website is up and my friend Penny in OC wants to do a documentary on the new site. I cant even call her because I know how I will react to anything good that happens. I will hate it. I will ruin it.

The end of a good day will come and I will lose myself dreading the moment when i have no one to tell about it and I turn to my damn laptop.

One of you messages a month ago mentioned despair, that the feeling was all of ours.

Despair is the perfect word. It makes me nauseous. It is the most painful of emotions.

You treat your pain with chemicals and forget what this pain is really caused by.

I had hope.

I realized the hope was killing me so I am now hopeless with the help of the new hope methadone...faith.

When I lost you and decided to get sober I knew I would not conquer the 12 steps without reestablishing contact with God. I had given her the silent treatment since I lost my son two years before.

Krystal was living at the house when I made the decision to end the freeze out. I would have to silence everything, including my own head, in order to hear God tell me I was going to survive a greater grief then the loss that had caused my temper tantrum.

The spiritual journey I have been on has been the most agonizing ordeal on par only with the event that lead me to it.

God made me woke for it, but we are like peas and carrots again.

We enjoy long walks on the beach, music, and dance.

She is hilarious in a way only you and I could appreciate.

I know have faith that one day this mess will be figured out.

But it will be her way not mine. So, I start my morning again.

I surrender.

I drop my weapons, and I sit and wait.

I miss you.

Come home.