One of my most beloved friends texted me for help the other day (my friends know I don’t do voice calls well). He said he’d understand if I had too much on my plate already but I said “No, no, I’m doing fine, I’m on the happy pill and doing very fine. I’ll come see you ASAP!”
In the end it turned out we couldn’t work out a good weekend for me to go see him but I called him up and a chat on the phone did the trick and all was good.
I have had nothing to say for the past few days. Nothing. I often sat down and thought about saying something… but then nothing came. People who know me know how amazingly wonderful and blissful it is for me to have nothing to say.
I have often agreed with the general stereotype that misery makes us more creative. Certainly, a tragic lifetime has made me so very very good at finding happiness and good things, and a lifetime of seeing people miserable and people happy and deciding I’d rather try to make people happy than miserable and then feeling miserable because I did a lot of making them miserable when what I really wanted was to make them happy, has made me really fed up of being miserable and making people miserable. And because I am very fortunate of having in my life amazing family and friends, even amazing colleagues and so forth, I am fortunate that I have a pretty good life at the moment, I was really fed up with ever being miserable at all! And yet, as written previously, unfortunately I didn’t seem to have a choice.
I am going to be 42 now, I guess it is time I stop being wary of relatives reading my posts and discovering “oh my god, she does/did this (or that)”. Honestly, there comes a time when you really, really don’t care who judges.
I always loved drugs. I always hated that they were illegal and the main reason why I never really became hooked on anything besides hating having to depend on anything in the first place was because I would never go out of my way to get any drugs, and hated contributing to the immense crime that surrounds even the lightest drugs. For example, I hated that to get hashish I had to go to the same park and often the same person that sold heroin, which killed my friends and who knows how many people got killed in the process of making that hashish available to us. Hence, I believe drugs should be legalised and regulated but as free as alcohol, at the very least, and people should be less stupid about using them.
Anyhow. I have always adored my kids and always hated the idea of them seeing me altered in any way, which is why I would never let them see me drunk and I would never have any drugs around them, which pretty much meant that my drug taking days were limited. However, because I talk to people read about stuff watch stuff and so on, I had the feeling that I’d really, really like to be taking some drugs that would help my moods, keep me steady, keep my ups and downs a little more manageable, keep my destructiveness under control. But somehow, it seemed incredibly difficult to get access to them.
I tried therapy last year, but even if it was half price it was dramatically expensive, and I knew it would take months…
Then a while back I went to see my GP, and she got me the happy pills. It is so incredibly simple, if I weren’t serene and happy I would cry for the amount of months and years I have wasted making my own life difficult and drama-ridden for no good reason at all.
I said yes to drugs, and I have never been happier 🙂