Yup. Us addicts are as stupid as the leaf is green when it comes to our drugs. And it can be literally ANYTHING right? Doesn’t matter. Just gimme gimme I want it xtra xtra, monster-sized, triple large, more more – no, that’s not enough, thank you. Keep pouring – I need more than you and you and you over there in the corner, creep. We have to fuck harder, cry louder, laugh longer because if we don’t, what’s the point of even doing it? We are incapable of simply feeling like Mr. & Mrs. Normal, we have to BE the experience. If we could kiss and lick and marry that high, we fucking would. And that makes us not who we think we are – the bestest and funnest person in the room – no – it makes us the dumbest one. Addiction will wrap it’s skeletal arms around you slowly, day after day, high after high, until you can’t see past the blanket of death you’re trapped in. Inside the blanket it’s warm and safe and feels so good it’s like sex used to be. We love being in the blanket, we know there’s something crawling down our back – we can feel it’s spider-like fingers tingling over our skin, but we don’t care. We’ll stay in here forever. Now, if someone dares to try and pull the blanket off, we will hurt you. We will scare the shit out of you. You won’t recognize the person yelling and screaming at you like a five-year old who’s just had his favorite toy taken away. And we will GUILT the fuck out of you. Oh yes, we are so good at the guilt thing –
“But baby, it’s the only thing that helps my back…you want me to be in pain…, “It’s just a drink, you sound like my ex…, “Just one more time – if you cared about me you’d understand,” etc., etc.
We will come out of the blanket occasionally, but only to steal from you. Got credit cards? Not for long. Got a spare twenty dollar bill hanging around? You thought you did – you must be mistaken. I have my own money, honey. Why would I need yours…?
And after all the lies and fights and promises not kept, you’re not the funnest person in the room – you’re the only one in the room, with just your blanket to keep you warm. Alone and dumb.
This blog will show you in every detail what the life of a Kratom addict is. You’ll be with me for three years through every high and every low. Every loss (and there are many) and every don’t give a fucks. It doesn’t end well, and yet it does, because I’m here, I’m alive and able to tell you my story.
This blog will be honest. The most brutal, hot to the touch honest I can be. Some of you will be pissed. You love your Kratom, it’s given you your life back, blah blah. That’s fine. Be pissed. I don’t give a rat’s ass. Kratom is addictive. It took my life, slowly, and then it killed me. It is as evil as any Percocet or Oxycontin or meth. I don’t care this is an unpopular opinion. Reddit is full of addicts debating the best way to potentiate the effects of kratom, what strains produce the most euphoria, or how to lobby the FDA to keep their drug legal. So go over there and hang with your friends. They are legion. I was banned there for speaking badly about this plant so here I am.
I hope you choose to come with me on this journey. Stay, learn.
But leave your blanket at the door.