drugs

Pain could be killed. Sadness could not, but the drugs did shut its mouth for a time.

Booze makes you stupid and like it. It makes you fall around and not care. And eventually, stupid is the only way you know how to be. Cocaine makes you feel important, that life matters, that you matter. That the music is better than it really is. That every conversation is profound and that all pretenses have been stripped away. Ecstasy makes you dance all night and love your friends so much, in a way that you've never been able to tell them about before. Acid makes you see pretty colours and makes things breathe. But Sadness, there is nothing like Sadness.

I finally gave in today. Admitting that I haven't been able to do it alone, that's defeat right? But do a couple pills change why I'm here? Will my spirit be altered? Do my passions change? Will I lose hope either way? My madness is what makes me. It__ my most unique beauty.

But love, like a mushroom high compared with the buzz from cheap weed, outlasts grief.

It was good. It was like something inordinately beautiful and out of this world. Like I__ found an actual planet that I didn__ know had been there all along. Planet Heroin. The place where there was no pain.

In the grief that comes with recognizing what happened to us, we often feel there is nowhere to turn for solace_We do things to keep it away, such as becoming overly busy or using drugs or alcohol to numb our feelings. When we are caught up in resistance, we do not feel hope, but when we surrender to our sadness fully, hope trickles in.

Why__ you want to kill yourself? Didn__ you feel anything, or didn__ it hurt you?_ Mandy questioned, looking puzzled. __es, I suppose it did, _ it was strange, it was sharp, that__ all I can think of to describe it_ and cold, but not cold like ice, more like_ I don__ know, like something much worse, something horrible_ and it seemed like the ground was falling upwards, becoming the sky_ for a moment it made me consider that it was just a dream, that I was on some sort of drug, and then I remember being overjoyed to see the sky was still above me, then just really sad, really tired_ and then I don__ remember much else about it,_ Alecto told her, glaring straight ahead at the sky with narrowed eyes. __ don__ mind, I__ not supposed to mind, anyway. Mearth already told me that eventually I would want to be dead, that it was inevitable_ still, I sometimes wish that I could have done something good for other people in my life, it might have made up for all the bad stuff I__e done.

LSD stands out for learning to slow down.

Sniffing glue is a homeless nonbeliever's prayer.

It's always almost Autumn, down here at Rock Bottom.

People aren't crazy, they__e just reacting normally to an abnormally crazy world.

Seriously, why aren't you on drugs?" Cath walked past her out of the room."Are you a licensed psychiatrist? Or do you just play one on TV?""I'm on drugs," Reagan said. "They're a beautiful thing.

I dye my jeans jet black once a week, but they never seem dark enough. I bleach my hair bright white twice a month but it never seems light enough. I drink two and a half bottles of champagne every night but I never seem drunk enough. And I know I__ not high enough until someone grabs my face to check my vision to see if I__ still responsive_ And even then, I__ thinking to myself that I should probably do one more line, you know, just to be safe.

Do you remember? Do you remember the world before the dark? Do you remember the world with mothers and fathers and stillness that did not feel like death?

My lips have touched more bottles than lovers and I'm half a shot away from psychotic.

Psychotropic drugs have also been organized according to structure (e.g., tricyclic), mechanism (e.g., monoamine, oxidase inhibitor [MAOI]), history (first generation, traditional), uniqueness (e.g., atypical), or indication (e.g., antidepressant). A further problem is that many drugs used to treat medical and neurological conditions are routinely used to treat psychiatric disorders.

I remember only images, snapshots burned into me, bleeding into each other until I no longer knew the order in which they had happen.

Those drugs were either going to bring me nirvana or they were going to kill me. I was sure of it. And I was comfortable with it.