Day 18

“Showtime”

I met a dead man over dinner tonight. He was alive again for the time being but who knows how long for. He spoke to me (unprovoked I might add) of the events that led up to him coming to [the treatment center] and how he took a full gram of pure MDMA at a party one night. Apparently his dealer should have given him the drugs in a child proof container with a recommended dosage label on it or perhaps just sold him a ball peen hammer instead. It seems he is prone to eating the entirety of anything that is put in front of his face. Shit that would be funny to see, a grown ass man trying to force feed himself a hammer. Fucking idiot.

Anyway, about ten minutes after he downed the drugs he said his leg started twitching uncontrollably and he fell to the floor seizuring and foaming blood from his mouth. Apparently he died three times in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, so naturally I asked him what death was like and what he told me was chilling. The first time, he said he was dragged by chains on his wrists to “hell” or some sort of blackness by some invisible force. The second time he died, witches tried to forcibly shoot him up with needles filled with a blue liquid and when he resisted them they pulled out a pistol and shot their brains out all over his face. The third time he said it was the chains again only this time he could see the devil pulling them at the other end. I’m not sure why but it struck me as an honest and true event that happened and not a made up story. He seemed genuine but I’m not sure I buy the whole “hell” thing.

Can a place like that exist? or was what he saw just a manifestation of his mind trying to make sense of it’s own demise? I mean we are all programmed to die but does our brain know whats going on when it is actually happening? I like to err on the side of science. My thinking is that, like computers, our brain runs on electrical impulses and when it is shorting out, it’s own interpretation signals causes the “light at the end of the tunnel” effect. There’s got to be an article somewhere I could investigate this further but honestly I neither have the means or motivation to do it right now. Of all the shitty things I put my family and friends through with my using, I’m glad I never put them through something like that.

I am so lucky to have had them there through all this. Who knows, without them maybe it could have been me in that ambulance. It is so weird to think how my head was so fucked up I thought I was all alone in the world. I guess in this life your only as alone as you choose to be. All I know for sure is that, I’m going to save dining with the dead for when my time comes.

Tomorrow I go back to my home, back to my life, I have a second chance at a good life and all the time in the world to figure it out. I am scared but optimistic. The beckoning call of synthetic, superficial happiness will forever hold sway over my mind and this is truly the bed I must sleep in. But now I think I may have the strength in my heart to face the darkest of demons. I can’t say for certain whether or not I will use drugs again, only time can see where it all ends, but what I do know for sure is that, right now, right here, I see myself again. Not just as a human being but as a spirit, a beautiful creation of the stars. Because we are all made of stardust, stars that once lived but then died, and it is in that I take solace. For I am, just by existing, proof that life goes on.

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