Upside Down

Somewhere between all the sleeping pills, dabs, and antidepressants is where you will find an alternate version of me. In that universe my rational mind tries to cry out for help, but his screams go unheard because of lungs ripped by bong hits. My emotional mind loves the vibe though. Getting out of my own personal upside down isn’t going to be easy. The yellow, oily eyes and dark, rum colored skin of my demagorgen may seem off putting but to me she appears as an exotic woman on a beach. My emotional mind desperately tries to reach this woman, just to say hello and my rational mind is to shy to object so I get thrust into awkward and uncomfortable situations where seeming sober should be my only objective but the only thing that I can see is her. Now reasons, excuses, they fog my already cloudy vision. Please, please ask me why I do not think I’m addicted so that I can give you the numerous details about my life that don’t match the stereotypical addicts and why I think that i am a high-functioning high person.  My mantras, my crisis support system, its broken. My rational mind has lost control of that vinyl record and now it spins uncontrollably on repeat. I am not addicted. I am not worthless. This is only temporary.  You are not your father. I am not addicted. I am not worthless. This is only temporary. You are not your father are you?