Throughout my life, when I am at big time lows, I always eschew being photographed. When I got hit with a hockey stick in the face as a kid (this is my lip scar), my face looked like butcher trimmings (I have had plastic surgery to repair/reconstruct my upper left lip), and when my ma asked if I would like a photo to document how I looked, I said NO. I wish I had said YES, but at the time I was pretty much feeling humiliated and bad, so I decided I didn't want that documented for all time.
Same was true when I had my spine fused. I do have one picture of me getting ready to go under the knife, with the IV in and in my gown and such, but that is pretty much it. I was very against getting any pix taken when I was in full Headwound Harry mode. In hindsight, I might like a picture or two of that experience since it was quite formative (I woke up in the middle of the surgery, which formed some unforgettable mind-polaroids, for example; I also had an episode in which I had a blood geyser out of my throat and had to walk toward the nurse station to get help and I looked like something out of a horror film...that woulda been a hell of a photo!)
I am at one of those points in life again, and I can't help but notice how low my weblife productivity has sunk meanwhiles. I am now going through the last of the tapering off of dope after nearly 15 years of hardcore opiate consumption. The withdrawal isn't as bad as it would be if I was some heroin junkie going cold turkey in jail or something, but unlike that variety of junkie, I am trying to do this without changing my daily life - meaning I need to do this without missing work or messing it up. I simply can't fall apart or spend the winter in rehab or whatever. For myriad reasons I need to do this while functioning "normally". As Iggy Pop said, "No Fun".
I am trying the "Bend So You Don't Break" approach. I am using smoking as an aid, which is scary and is far from ideal, but I am quite sure I will have a much easier time quitting that than what my current "quitting" entails. In short, the butts help. As soon as I am 2 weeks clean, I will put the smokes down too.
In any event, this is probably the time I should be going loco with writing and photos. Without doubt, I am having a vida loca worthy of some keyboard pecking, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't really want to document feeling horrible. I don't want to explore the ins-n-outs of being a crazed rat who doesn't get the pellet when the bar is pushed. Once this passes, I am sure I will wish I had documented it all in great detail (I think Jim Morrison said hang onto the bad stuff because that is where the intensities come from, and they are the things one remembers...I can't say he is wrong.)
I can totally feel the weight of the world smoothing my edges and wearing me out. If my outward life were the same as my inward life, I would be talking about nothing but My Drug Life (thx East River Pipe!) It is all consuming, and believe it or not, there is much nuance to it. For the first time in probably 10 years, I have some ideas for things I want to write (one of which is fiction, which never happens.) As I go nuts, I might be able to document some of it in a way that has meaning beyond the end of my nose. If I don't start working on it, I suppose I could lose it. I hope I don't. I have all winter to do nothing but write - it ain't like I can go outside or anything - but I don't. My normal MO is to try taking on too much at once, which would mean trying to accomplish multiple tasks of this size at once. This time, I am not doing that. I have a new job, I have to move again, I need to lose 50lbs, I need to pay off my debts, and so on. Most of that has to wait for my full attention until I am totally clean. Rough trade of sorts.
I have already had a dope free 24 hours (maybe that has a mulligan in it, but I was close enough.) I am now down to the absolute end of my meds, and don't have enough to make it to my next appointment without going through a week of cold turkey. I am way more ready than I thought I would be. I believe I will do it and come out fine, but the next few weeks of my life represent a walk over the coals I have been dreading the thought of since Rx#1 back in the 20th Century.
From a writing point of view, there should be plenty of material. All I am saying is: Forgive Me If You Never See It. Something good/big is going to come from this. I can feel it. I just don't know what, and I don't know when. I suppose in that respect, this is really no different than anything else; but even so, I feel like I have reached the final boss in a very long video game. I lack any special weapons or cloaking or experience dealing with some huge composite monster which can wipe me out without a thought.
I gotta just run up and put the dagger in and hope I hit the right spot. So much easier typed than done.