still trying to write, without much success.
It’s very cold today, I don’t know how cold but cold enough to keep me inside, which makes me glad I switched from cigarettes to vapes (thanks to my Patreon subscribers who bought my vape for me). I was thinking about this time last year when it was probably about this frigid out, and I guess I’ll link the stories I wrote last February, about my winter on the streets. I wrote all of these stories in a composition book over the course of about 3 weeks in this rehab I was in, up near Yonkers, NY. It was a chronicling of the particularly gory events from January to late February of 2022, and it came out on its own through my messy handwriting. You would think after how bad the winter was I would stay sober, but I got back at it even worse over the summer… insanity.
I guess when you don’t have much in the way of writing inspiration, you just recycle things from when you did.
I remember being deep into one of those spells of air duster-huffing addiction last winter. All of my drool from my mouth, the snot from my nose, and the blood from my lips was frozen to the cans I was inhaling…all while freeze burning my fingertips. There were days when I didn’t even have a jacket because I had lost it somehow. The police by the 86th street target I was frequenting knew me by name and expressed concern that I was going to freeze to death out there.
I remember it also being about a year ago when I fell face-first down the subway steps in Flatbush junction, Brooklyn, and cracked all of my front teeth. I was thinking about it because yesterday I had to have the 2nd of my front teeth extracted to make room for all the dentures I’m going to need. the pain, and looking in the mirror reminds me of the heinous damage I inflicted on myself, and it feels awful. At least I can say I’m far better off than I was a year ago.
I feel pretty hideous , and self conscious about how fucked up my dental situation is. i wanted to just blow off the extraction yesterday, like i have always blown off all of this dental work, because i hate being in that chair. the nitrous oxide wasnt even particulary helpful. i thought about getting up and being like “you know what, fuck this, i’m not doing it”, but i tried to just breath and sit through it, which i ended up doing. If i stay on top of my appointments, it’ll be worth it, and i’ll smile again.
I dont know where things are going (with life in general) , i have a lot fear that i’m 4 months into a 6 month program without much to show for it but some cool clothes. I worry that i wont come out any better off then when i went in, which is definitely not factual. my housing application is kind of stuck until i get this doctor to sign off on it, hopefully on Monday. I will also be attempting (again) to get an city ID, and I hope that I finally have everything i need for that. I’ve been struggling with this process for about 3 years.
I will be trying to get approved for something called “reintegration” here at this program which will buy me another 6 months to wait for my apartment to fall into place (this time with no psychotic roommate), hopefully it will work out . Honestly i have nowhere to go, and ending up in a shelter is not going to help me with anything, and would probably only make things worse (everyone is on drugs in the NYC shelter system).
Some days it feels like i fucked up my life beyond any chance of putting it back together.
Prayers up (I guess)
i ran out of things to say, actually i didn’t really have anything in the first place. i have to force myself to write for practice.
