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Meth Mathematics
For my birthday I would like a few new veins and a brand new life, okay? Wrap up some happiness, love and a little bit of sanity with Star Wars wrapping paper from the late to mid 70’s, please? Make sure to use bubble wrap because those three things can’t arrive to me cracked, I can’t survive disappointment like that. Help me find a way out of the life I’ve been trapped and stop me if I ever try to go back.
Today is October 17th and I’m now twenty two years old, daydreaming of quitting before hitting twenty three. I’m alone in my apartment, sober and painfully lonely, making lists in my head of all the ways I could make my life end. I spend every day counting numbers in my head, adding dollars, subtracting minutes and hours, ounces and grams, dividing 1.5 by 2 and injecting the remainder into my arm. I’ve never been good at math but I’ve become an expert at calculating the amount of poison needed to keep breathing, the amount of toxins required to stop myself from screaming. The equation is simple— just add up your regrets and add that number to how many mistakes you’ve made, then multiply the sum by the number of people you’ve disappointed. Take that product and add the amount of people you miss, multiply that sum by how many lovers said, “Sorry but I can’t do this” and what’s the product you’re now left with?
That’s the number of reasons you have for not wanting to live.
But sometimes you can take that number and subtract it by grams, you can reduce the amount of pain that you’re in.. numb is possible with poisonous subtraction. Right now my bag is empty and so is my wallet, I have no variable to subtract from—there’s only more addiction and multiplication. What happens when I reach infinity and there’s no poison left to reduce the severity?
Is it sick to find it slightly poetic to die on the day you took your first breath? I’m growing tired of math and equations, I’m better with words and false explanations— am I simply venting or is this my official resignation? Well, you do the math.. I’ve subtracted my life into the negative and I’m sick of being in debt.
Today is October 17th and I’m now twenty two years old, daydreaming of quitting before hitting twenty three. I’m alone in my apartment, sober and painfully lonely, making lists in my head of all the ways I could make my life end. I spend every day counting numbers in my head, adding dollars, subtracting minutes and hours, ounces and grams, dividing 1.5 by 2 and injecting the remainder into my arm. I’ve never been good at math but I’ve become an expert at calculating the amount of poison needed to keep breathing, the amount of toxins required to stop myself from screaming. The equation is simple— just add up your regrets and add that number to how many mistakes you’ve made, then multiply the sum by the number of people you’ve disappointed. Take that product and add the amount of people you miss, multiply that sum by how many lovers said, “Sorry but I can’t do this” and what’s the product you’re now left with?
That’s the number of reasons you have for not wanting to live.
But sometimes you can take that number and subtract it by grams, you can reduce the amount of pain that you’re in.. numb is possible with poisonous subtraction. Right now my bag is empty and so is my wallet, I have no variable to subtract from—there’s only more addiction and multiplication. What happens when I reach infinity and there’s no poison left to reduce the severity?
Is it sick to find it slightly poetic to die on the day you took your first breath? I’m growing tired of math and equations, I’m better with words and false explanations— am I simply venting or is this my official resignation? Well, you do the math.. I’ve subtracted my life into the negative and I’m sick of being in debt.
Published 18th Oct 2013
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18th Oct 2013 2:38am
The mathematics of meth & life...adding & subtracting dollars & cents (sense)...ounces, grams, minutes, hours...years. This math of meth is a grim calculation. I've had my own rides with it over the last decade, & I'll be the first to tell ya, it's just about the worst chemical addiction one can have. You're young, & you still have that window open for you...but it's a substance that can ~quickly~ devour your mind, body...soul, as I'm sure you already know. I've seen 28 year olds who look every bit of 40, 50 even. Many of them are just so dead inside. It's a brutal daemon...my heart goes out to you.
I was never good at math, either. The complicated maths, anyway. Much, much better at those words & false explanations you speak of. This is a heartfelt write on a tough subject, & a difficult read on a personal level. Your mind seems much older than 22. You can kick this thing...it's a hard road, especially alone.
I'm sure I've said nothing that you don't already know, but I wanted to say it anyway. Best of luck to you...& happy birthday!
I was never good at math, either. The complicated maths, anyway. Much, much better at those words & false explanations you speak of. This is a heartfelt write on a tough subject, & a difficult read on a personal level. Your mind seems much older than 22. You can kick this thing...it's a hard road, especially alone.
I'm sure I've said nothing that you don't already know, but I wanted to say it anyway. Best of luck to you...& happy birthday!
18th Oct 2013 3:48am
Happy birthday. Being an addict as well, I should listen to my own advice when I say "don't do it".... we're BOTH better than this shit. I know, its fun...but it's possible. Great write.
