April 26th 1998: Hate

This is it… I’m trapped, the spiral of self–loathing. In short, I hate myself, well at least I think that’s the problem, just pure and simple hatred. I hate myself, and to make matters worse, I hate myself for hating myself. I’m different now, everything is different now, I look at myself and I get scared. Scared because that’s not me, No not really, just shell, a shell of a person who once resembled me.

I know, I know I said that I wouldn’t talk about the smack anymore but here, I really need to. My addiction to heroin is what has distorted me into this thing,  this vague husk of a person that I used to be, and I hate what I’m becoming.

What started out as some fun on a Saturday night, has grown into this full-blown addiction that has taken on a life of its own, almost independent from my own. And I hate myself for letting it go so far.   It was Avin, young, tiny, innocent Avin who was the one who made me realize what was happening to me. Little Avin, he was the one that told me, told me that I’m changing, he asked me “why can’t you just be Pat?” I hate myself for the fact that this little kid was the one who was the first to notice.

I know that my recent, constant disagreements with almost every living person in my vicinity have all stemmed from this constant attitude of indifference that seeps out of my heroin-addled brain. This is what I hate, heroin the way it’s changing me is constantly putting my friendships,  with Janice, with my family, with my crew, the most important people in my life, in jeopardy.

Because of all this, I need to change, and I only know one way to do so is to quit. The only problem is, will I be able to? Is my hunger for dope, so full-blown that there’s no turning back? I will now, I honestly don’t know but I guess is as good as yours and here’s only one way to find out. But I don’t know if I want to find out.