Today i sit in a halfway house, fresh out of jail. a halfway house, again, because i was in jail, again. I have been back in the free world for 10 days now. i was in jail for 53 weeks, but i do not have that much time clean. now, one would think that sitting in jail multiple times for many different reasons, in different states, constantly in and out and all of it drug related would stop someone from using. it doesn’t. I am the junk box. what is a junk box? a person who is just so all consumed by addiction and drugs, that they do not care about what goes into their body, they don’t shower, they barely eat, and the only sleep they get is a result from a high dose shot of some “high quality” heroin. and i use the air quotes, because, fact of the matter is, i have no idea just what that shit was cut with, it didn’t matter, it did what i wanted it to do, it stopped me from feeling. from thinking. you see, its such a horrible and deadly cycle this thing called addiction. i grew up with a loving family, brothers, cousins, grandparents, both parents present in my life, and tons of friends, but no matter how much love i was shown, no matter what i did, nothing ever felt good enough. i always felt, different, like an alien or something. i always felt inadequate, not good enough, and empty inside. until i used drugs for the first time. once i used, and alcohol was my first drug, i felt like my stars had aligned. like i had arrived. like i fit in. everything just kind of made sense. but the thing about this false sense of self love, is that it quickly diminishes and I’m once again uncomfortable in my own skin. the first time i drank, i was 16 at a party with some friends i played baseball with. the temporary feeling was bliss, but when the drunk wore off and i was mending from the hangover, i could only think about one thing…..more.