I want to use.

I feel on the verge of tears. It's been a very long couple weeks. I have found myself wishing for an appointment with my counsellor - last week I felt I needed it, now I feel it again. I've been a sound board for everyone around me, taking it all in, letting none of it out. That's the job of a counsellor and the reason we need our own. Unfortunately, she's on vacation, or we'd have a session scheduled. 

If we'd have a session, I'd talk about my desire to use. The craving to let go of it all. I'd talk about Katie being pregnant, about feeling the loss of my pregnancy. I'd talk about Emily, and how she's me when I was 17. I look into her eyes and I see her pain, her suffering, her need to escape. I see how trapped and lost she is. I see myself. I'd talk about Alana, and the messages she sent to Andrew. How angry she was at him for sharing photos of me with their child - "no other woman should hold my child like that". How hurt I was to read those messages... To see that she trusts so little, yet calls me "auntie". If she were here, she would have encouraged it, it's just because she wasn't. I think she's cheating on him. She's so quick to get mad at him, to accuse him, to pick fights and blame him... He's never cheated a day in his life and never would. I feel for him. It hurts my heart to see him go through this and to see how cruel she can be. 

So... If I had a session, I'd talk about it all. I'd talk about how everything compounding has made me want to use. I'd talk about my ex telling me he brought a ring to propose, the very day I left him. Do I believe him - truthfully, I don't know. He has manipulated me in the past, lied, cheated... I shouldn't believe him, but part of me does. I don't know what I would have said. I left him because he would never pick me over Nicole. I left him because he didn't trust me to take care of Dion, because he picked fights. He now says he trusted me all along, that losing me was his biggest mistake. He didn't fight for me that day, not like he always fought for her. All he had to do was fight for me to not leave and I would have stayed. I would have said yes. That realization hits hard. I want to use.

I would talk about smoking weed, getting so high, hoping to feel what I felt with Harley. I would talk about using codeine, hoping to feel what I felt with Harley. I would talk about how neither drug satisfied this urge, this need, this craving. Neither drug is what I crave. I crave what he gave me. I crave the addiction he created. I'm convinced it was crack, but I won't ever test that theory. I want to use, but I refuse.