2026-07-02
Sobriety is a form of self-harm
No weed, no alcohol. No shrooms. Not even melatonin. I'm rawdogging this shit.
Head is constantly pounding. I'm irritated. I'm uncomfortable in my own skin. Did I mention I lowered the dosage for my Zoloft prescription? Fifty milligrams. Down from 120. I couldn't even cum on 120mg but now I cum and cry. I'm fucking miserable.
I dreamed of my high school boyfriend. Lucid dreaming, where you become conscious in your dream. We said we'd find each other when we woke up. That was on Sunday. Monday I started looking for him online. Nowhere. He removed every single trace of himself. The only rational conclusion is that he works for a secret organization with the gov/terror group.
Then I looked his brother up. Nothing. No socials. Not a single trace. But there was one random hit. The only result on his brother's name. Some type of union organization. A number was listed. I copied it and pasted the number in my phone and went to text the number. The message would not be sent as an SMS but as an RCS. Good sign. This was definitely a cell number.
Within seconds of sending my "Hi, my name is blah blah blah and I'm looking for so and so" the message appeared to be "read". My heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest. I could feel its rhythm in my throat reverberating on my esophagus
"School name and full name," they demanded.
I gave them both the school name and my full legal name.
"Oh wow you went to school with my brother," was their response.
I practically shit my pants. It was his brother. I had found him. He told me he would tell his brother I was looking for him and pass along my number. That was yesterday. I still haven't heard from him. I don't think I will and that's ok (I cried about it earlier this evening).
I met up with the girls after work for ice cream. I got sorbet. I don't think I'll ever go back to regular ice cream. Sorbet slaps.
I drove up to Canmore. I wish I could work there full time. That place is alive.
Good, rich, and beautiful things are coming my way. I can feel it. I can almost touch it. Hopefully all this rawdogging doesn't make me kill myself before I get to see it all flourish.
I got a pink keyboard and pink mouse from my coworker when she found out I loved pink. The girls inspired me to be more whimsical at the office. I think that would help me a lot, actually. I need to be whimsimaxxing a lot more.