H

The speed at which my mind can “go there” is a sign of just how weak it can be… this text exchange just happened:

The couple of minutes between my “?” and the response was consumed with I don’t really like H but I’ll do it and how much time before I have to show up for some place and how much money do I have… only then did my son and the probable guilt and shame and clean time thoughts followed… I was ready to do it before I wasn’t.

Slight disappointment followed the reply about it being a mistake… yep…

Today has been more meh than not and look at me… this isn’t to say I was going to actually do it, but it’s disturbing to me still… I’m imagining the insanity if indeed this wasn’t a drill… like if my friend actually was signalling to me… that insanity of the insanity… the okay, I’ve got to plan this shit out and the speed in which it would need to happen and the amount of variables I would need to figure out and inevitable frustration of how I’d be pressed for time and racing against my guilt… trying to beat it before it grew too much to convince me not to do it…

The power of one letter…

You know you want to say something... say it.