Nick Porter [OC] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_cataclysm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-01-22 10:11 pm
the_cataclysm) wrote in muserevival2014-01-22 10:11 pm
Entry tags:
word of the day 034
Vicissitude
n. 1. a change or variation occurring in the course of something
I have a friend, Peter. His photography is amazing. He has an online blog which you know, stupid me, had no idea what that even was. He suggested I do one about food, or art and I wanted to but I wasn’t sure where I’d begin or what I could really write about. I ain’t even all that good at writing and I’m sure each of these will take me an hour or two to type out but hey, all I got is time here. So I’m gonna attempt this online thingy.
Day one. They say day one isn’t even the hardest… that comes around day four, or five…but it sure as hell feels like it right now. It’s the change, more than anything and that constant feeling of wanting to run away. The worst thing of it is, they tell you that you can leave at any time. There are no locks on the doors and nothing keeping you here but yourself. That’s a hard thing, when you’ve never quite made the right decisions for yourself before. So what’s one more decision, then? Well, only the biggest one of my life. I made twelve decisions today. Six to leave and six to stay. Lets hope there isn’t a thirteenth. It’s a little easier when I think about it in terms of how in here is life and one foot out that door means throwing it all away. It’s something I have to repeat over and over again. So far so good.
It’s lonely here. Full of people, but none of the faces I’ve grown to care so much about. When did they all slipped in? I have no idea, but now I know I don’t ever wanna let em go. That’s another thing that keeps me here and I know maybe that isn’t the healthiest, but hopefully eventually it’ll be myself keeping me here most of all.
The physical stuff should be worse than it is, and it aint no picnic, but they’re good with the meds and honestly when you spent half your childhood in a basement without food, withdrawal don’t even seem all that bad. It’s more the thoughts in my head, telling me that if I had one drink, even one sip, one pill, it would only do good. It’s always been the thoughts in my head that are worse than anything. So now instead of those thoughts, we have to write down lists and goals showing how much easier these goals will be once I’m living a clean and sober life. The last list contained a whole damn list of curse words, but it’ll be bed time soon so I’m gonna try the list again. Bed time. I feel five… which isn’t all that bad, cause five was still alright.
Sleep didn’t happen last night, but they’re gonna gimme some stuff for it. Nothin addictive I guess, but they want our sleep to be the same every day. And apparently we have to eat three times a day too. If I gain fifty pounds I’m blaming it on rehab. I’m kiddin, of course. But really. So much food that I can’t even keep down just yet. But I’m doin what I can and thinking of the people in my life who are important to me. It’ll get me through the tough times. So that’s day one. Twenty something days more to go. I’m trying not to think of the specific number because this isn’t supposed to be a countdown. Its just supposed to be.
So till next time,
love love love, Nick. (Is that how you end one of these things? Well it is now)
Nick Porter//Original Character
n. 1. a change or variation occurring in the course of something
I have a friend, Peter. His photography is amazing. He has an online blog which you know, stupid me, had no idea what that even was. He suggested I do one about food, or art and I wanted to but I wasn’t sure where I’d begin or what I could really write about. I ain’t even all that good at writing and I’m sure each of these will take me an hour or two to type out but hey, all I got is time here. So I’m gonna attempt this online thingy.
Day one. They say day one isn’t even the hardest… that comes around day four, or five…but it sure as hell feels like it right now. It’s the change, more than anything and that constant feeling of wanting to run away. The worst thing of it is, they tell you that you can leave at any time. There are no locks on the doors and nothing keeping you here but yourself. That’s a hard thing, when you’ve never quite made the right decisions for yourself before. So what’s one more decision, then? Well, only the biggest one of my life. I made twelve decisions today. Six to leave and six to stay. Lets hope there isn’t a thirteenth. It’s a little easier when I think about it in terms of how in here is life and one foot out that door means throwing it all away. It’s something I have to repeat over and over again. So far so good.
It’s lonely here. Full of people, but none of the faces I’ve grown to care so much about. When did they all slipped in? I have no idea, but now I know I don’t ever wanna let em go. That’s another thing that keeps me here and I know maybe that isn’t the healthiest, but hopefully eventually it’ll be myself keeping me here most of all.
The physical stuff should be worse than it is, and it aint no picnic, but they’re good with the meds and honestly when you spent half your childhood in a basement without food, withdrawal don’t even seem all that bad. It’s more the thoughts in my head, telling me that if I had one drink, even one sip, one pill, it would only do good. It’s always been the thoughts in my head that are worse than anything. So now instead of those thoughts, we have to write down lists and goals showing how much easier these goals will be once I’m living a clean and sober life. The last list contained a whole damn list of curse words, but it’ll be bed time soon so I’m gonna try the list again. Bed time. I feel five… which isn’t all that bad, cause five was still alright.
Sleep didn’t happen last night, but they’re gonna gimme some stuff for it. Nothin addictive I guess, but they want our sleep to be the same every day. And apparently we have to eat three times a day too. If I gain fifty pounds I’m blaming it on rehab. I’m kiddin, of course. But really. So much food that I can’t even keep down just yet. But I’m doin what I can and thinking of the people in my life who are important to me. It’ll get me through the tough times. So that’s day one. Twenty something days more to go. I’m trying not to think of the specific number because this isn’t supposed to be a countdown. Its just supposed to be.
So till next time,
love love love, Nick. (Is that how you end one of these things? Well it is now)
Nick Porter//Original Character