5/27

So here we are. We’ve gotten to the core of what this blog is about – being seduced by “K”, loving her, and her loving me back straight into hell. Now that we’ve arrived here together, I have to confess I wasn’t sure what this post would actually say. I know, that sounds weird. Writing it felt weird. What I mean is that my intent with this blog is to tell my Kratom story and how it killed me (yes – it really did) in the tiniest of details – day-by-day, minute after minute, life after death. So far, my previous posts were introductions and set-up and how I actually discovered K. Which lead us here. D-Day. Lift off. The money shot. I’ve taken my first Kratom, took care of that intrusive hard-on, and am ready to take on the world feeling like Jimmy fucking Hoffa.

But not yet.

I’m feeling a little reflective today. Not sure why. No, that was a lie. I do know why. Many times I say that Kratom killed me (I’ve already had angry people defending Kratom telling me it’s not dangerous -well fuck them. Like I’ve said I don’t care what you think). I don’t think people actually get that what I’m saying is real. KRATOM KILLED ME. I DIED BECAUSE OF IT. MY HEART STOPPED AND I WAS DEAD. Can I be any clearer? Do I need to say it another fifty ways because I will. We will get to that day, the day I died, on this blog eventually. You’ll see how it started like any other day and ended quite unlike any other. You’ll see how my family was told by the doctors to prepare to say goodbye to me, how waking up from a coma after nearly a week feels, and how the sight of a catheter jammed down your dick is actually quite funny.

As I write this, it’s six days away from May 27th – the day in 2019 I died. I can’t help but feel reflective. There are reminders everywhere other than the date – the warmer weather, the leaves on the trees, the way the air smells and how the light shines through the windows later in the evening. My family calls 5/27 my second birthday. The new beginning. The day I beat back the dark and came through. I wish I could say I agree. But, I did promise you honesty so I’m not going to pretend. Yes, I lived – I’m grateful. But there is an ever-present anger that keeps shouting that this should have never happened in the first place. But, it did. Which lead me here. And that is why we’re here, so I can tell my story and hope that someone reads it and stops before they reach where I was.

Next, K and I go on our honeymoon –

and what a time we had.