stuck, really.

Sometimes I see myself in a dream- traveling through time back to my freshman year. Back when I had good dreams instead of "real life" ones. Back before the pills and the withdrawals. Back when if you would have told me I would eventually be doing pills everyday and having withdrawals when the money ran dry I would have spat in your face and told you to "Shut the fuck up."
I see myself, running through the parking lot to the bland concrete space all the kids would stand on and talk in the early morning fog. I search for my younger self, looking for baggy pants and torn up converses until I see myself sitting down against a large column reading a book. I walk slowly over and say, "Stay away from it. Please." And then I start to slam my head into the ground screaming, "You will be nothing! You will be nothing! You will be nothing!"
I pull my hair. I scratch my eyes out. I smash my nose, and I am bleeding all over lying on the ground sobbing, "Okay. Okay. Okay."
Then and only then do I disappear, being thrown back in time to te present in which I am still sitting here, on the couch, with the TV muted and my entire body feeling deprived of some very valuable and dire vitamin, which can only mean that it did not work. I did not listen to my aged and shriveled self, the lure of good feelings and excess dopamine was just too much to resist.

However, I am better. Its just the letdown that I care about. I can get through anything now. [knock on wood.]