Back on methadone. Got back on the day after I realized my boyfriend wasn't getting out of jail until I came up with $1000 bail. That wasn't going to happen while I was using.....and right now I pretty much wish I hadn't made it happen at all. Cuz now he's out and even though 99% of the time I love him and love being with him...right now I'm thinking I can't be with him for anything....not a friendship, not a relationship, nothing.....he will always put drugs above everything. Me, himself, the world. Why would I want to be near anyone who is like that. How could I ever trust him, trust what he says, what he does, where he goes....all our money, our stability, everything will always be at risk of being lost. He's probably going back to jail for at least a year. That's the life I have to look forward to? Fuck that, I don't want that to be my life. I don't want to have to be alone cuz he has no self control, no love for himself or his life. He's overdosed like eight times since he got out in September, than gone back in for a month and got high again the night I got him out. I'm so fuckin pissed right now!!!

I don't really love him enough to put up with this shit....and he's probably gonna search this out and read it and never forgive me for spilling my guts but I have to be mean right now and I can't do it to his face cuz he'll never recover from my searing words and evil glare. But I have to get it out, all my anger, frustration, and failure on my own part. Why do I settle for the lame in life, the pathetic, the useless....I have so much potential....and I hate that word...that word makes my stomach roll, like the word 'swell' or 'slacks'.....it's like chewing on the polyester those hideous slacks are so often made of. I hate it probably cuz I wasted so much of my own.

He was doing well for the past week, just taking his suboxone more or less as prescribed and we finally were able to begin to climb out of this hideous hole we've dug ourselves into. And then he runs into one of his so-called buddies and suddenly he can't finish his day without making crack a part of it. And I get mad and I argue and tell him not to but he has it in my mind once he brings it up and then my mind is divided.....I want it as much as I hate it and don't want it. Once it's in my face I can't say no. I thought I had got him not to do it and I closed myself in my room to try to sleep it off, the anger, the cravings...maybe they would be gone in the morning. But I didn't get the chance to wait till morning to see if it had all left my body. He flipped the lights on ready to smoke and had to bring it in front of me..."But at least I was honest to you" he says, "I could have just let you sleep and done it behind your back". As if I was actually sleeping, as if I didn't hear every breath, every footfall up and down the three  flights of stairs to our apartment. As if he's ever been able to hide anything from me before. I'm a fiend of the worst variety, I can smell the intention of drug use a mile away.

And now we're waiting to waste even more money. Just like I told him would happen. I can't do just a twenty....and he knows that and uses me as the excuse once he's started it. "Well, I would have been fine with just a twenty"...yeah, but you didn't protest when I needed more did you?