Why does the label “Junkie” automatically make me an awful person?

      There’s no proven correlation between injecting drugs and a lack of empathetic emotion.

      If there were, it would be on Wikipedia and I’d sure as hell know about it.

      Yeah, there are times we’re selfishly preoccupied with our own problems and we forget it’s possible to be upset about something other than drugs, but it’s not malicious.

       Shit, I even forget it’s possible to feel any sickness other than dopesick and I’m confused whenever I catch a cold.

      I’m incredibly lucky to have friends who understand and wouldn’t hold it against me if I didn’t bring them soup every time they got the flu— even though I probably would, as long as they were fine with soup from a can. I wish more people were like that.

      This wouldn’t happen if I were just an alcoholic or maybe even a smoker because that’s socially acceptable, no matter how many times I wreck my car or if I kill the neighbors cat.

      Any addiction steals your attention away from what’s important until your fix is satisfied, that’s why it’s an addiction and they’re all the same.. some are just more painful/sleep depriving than others.

      When your pack is empty and you haven’t had a cigarette in a few hours (God forbid you’re also drinking coffee or talking on the phone), your main concern is buying more; you’re anxious, irritable and I notice that nervous habit when you pick at your nails.

       We’re the same. But when you’re in the hospital needing a tube in your throat, you’ll have tables full of flowers and nurses smiling as they bring you breakfast in the morning. Your family will visit and you’ll never be alone— if only that were true for the rest of us, lucky you.

      While you’re surrounded by smiles and flowers, I’ll be down the hall with an officer posted outside my door, maybe even hand cuffed to my bed regardless of how old or weak I may be.

      Ya know, because I’m dangerous and all. I’ll be laying in that bed dying from one or several of the numerous illnesses I’ve self-inflicted (like yourself) but when I look around the room, there won’t be any goddamn flowers, “Get Well Soon!” cards or sympathetic smiles— there won’t be anyone. If somehow I’ve managed to sustain a few friendships over the years, they’re probably junkies as well and thanks to a judgmental society, most of us avoid hospitals whenever possible. Sad, right?

      And I won’t even start comparing my future to that of a dying alcoholic, fuck I’d be here all night. No matter how many bridges they burn or how many loved ones they’ve emotionally damaged, an alcoholic is always forgiven.

      I guess no one cares that their addiction is going to put them behind the wheel of a car with the chance of murdering someone’s child. It’s socially acceptable.. even though alcohol withdrawals can actually kill you, whereas mine will just make me kill myself.

      Yeah.. sounds way more safe.

An alcoholic is more likely to hurt an innocent person than the junkie strung out in their room, blogging on tumblr until 4am.

      It’s disgusting how judgmental and hypocritical the world is.

      It makes me sick, society makes me fucking sick. I hate all of you.

      When my roommate finds himself at 7-11 buying a pack of cigarettes after a stressful week, he won’t have to worry about coming home to an eviction notice on the door or losing another friend who just can’t handle another relapse.

      He can sit on the couch drinking his 5th beer of the night, just as he does every night.. he won’t be falling apart and crying into the phone, “Daddy, I have nowhere to go.” It’s not fucking fair. Life is not fucking fair.

By: Lauren Fanning / Bloody (MentalBloody)


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