I'm sitting in a classroom, feeling sick. My hands are shaking, my legs are shaking, I can't write, I can't listen, I can't think, my head is a mess, I'm not high, that was in the morning, now I'm crashing into a brick wall. I knew this was coming, I knew what a stupid mistake I had made, but it was too late. 8 pills was all it took, <edit moderator total eclipse method and amt> enough to turn most people into hyped up hamsters running on wheels. For me, it did nothing, it made me feel, which was better than no feeling at all. It was this day that I decided to never get high again, to get out of this hole before it's too deep to dig out of. This day was Friday, April 27th. Its been a long week, a longer year. My energy is waning, my defenses are down, but I'm keeping myself going, I've been like this before, I've stared death in the face on my own doing, I said enough was enough, and I said it again yesterday. I don't have much, no God to help me, no one to talk to me and say its all right. Only myself, my willpower, it will be a challenge, but I'll prevail. I'll be alright. It does get better, I know it does, I hope it does. But I can not go down this path anymore, I cant do this to myself. I'm tired of ranting with no solution, wallowing in self-pity. There's always a way, and I'll find that way no matter what it takes.