No I don’t. I hate them. People don’t ruin lives, drugs do. Everyone assumes Drug Addicts love drugs but I assure you most don’t. They are an expensive crutch that offers  short term release and long term pain, and the certainty that you will probably end up alone in the long run. I turn to them when there is nowhere and no one to turn to.

I was doing well. When NG left in late August, I was doing fine. I was still smoking weed but I don’t include that in my list of shame. I know I’d have far more motivation and achieved more if I didn’t smoke it, but I know loads of together, successful people who start their day with a spliff and it’s never done them any harm. Her own Auntie included and, unlike me, held in the highest of esteem. She used to ask me to stop, but in that hypocritical and confusing way of hers, was always the first to ask me to skin up at the end of a long day. Unless I already had one on the go that was. And then she knicked it.

Nonetheless, when she left I gave up the weed too, along with cigarettes. I was drawing strength from the news of NG’s illness like she was. Her health scare had temporarily woken me up. I lasted 25 days. As time went on and it became clear she was not going to reply to any of my emails I grew more anxious and depressed. More alone. Now that I look at it it’s been a fairly steep decline since then. By week 5 I had started on the weed and drinking again. But I was still in control. In week 8 I resigned from my part-time job as I just couldn’t concentrate anymore. It required me to be nice to the General Public. Not them! Not now. I needed to smile and multi-task but I couldn’t even get out of bed anymore on time. My sleep has turned more and more nocturnal as the Monster has taken control. Game Over. My last connection to the outside world gone. My last reason to stay sober and straight.

I worked because it was good for my mental health – no other reason. I don’t need the money. I have other things going on. I wish I didn’t. If I was like everyone else I would have to work full time, take the shit from arrogant bosses and most of all I wouldn’t have any spare cash to fuel the Monster. Be careful what you wish for. Going into work whilst being so utterly alone and heartbroken was becoming impossible. I took a realistic decision that I could no longer cut it and resigned. But I held it for 2 years, and that’s something I didn’t expect. It grounded me. It was a tough gig that required me to work nearly every weekend. I wish I hadn’t. It was my only reason to leave the Mausoleum and keep communication open with The Human Race. I worked and missed NG. Nothing fuels the Monster more than idle hands. My plan at the time was to give notice on the mausoleum and to spend the winter travelling South East Asia and South America. And to heal overseas. Putting distance between us had worked for NG, perhaps it would work for me. I didn’t plan this.

But then from nowhere the Monster came out of the Wardrobe. He had been awaiting his grand entrance. He knows when you are alone and at your weakest. A friend asked me to score him some Coke. I had been good. Apart from a brief flirt with it in week 1 I had not touched it since maybe April when I went to Barcelona with NG for my 50th – a last Hurrah with the dreaded powder of pain. She made it clear she would not tolerate thst and when I was with her I was always able to stop easily after a fall from grace. Which always coincided with the times we had separated briefly before. She made me choose between her or the Monster. She always won easily. I didn’t need it when I was happy and enabled. And being with NG made me happy more often than not. I have been able to stay clean for myself for years. But generally I am not a good enough reason. The irony is people think I’m confident and arrogant. If they only knew. I was a much better man than now when I started this blog in 2012. I am not that person any more. I wish I was. She said in January I wasn’t. And had read my blog then instead of now then you wouldn’t be reading this post. I was nowhere near the man I could be and the one she left her husband for. I am a failed recovering Drug Addict that has no family or friends and has driven away everyone that ever cared for him. I am the worse  version of me I can possibly be.

Before I knew what the fuck just happened I was doing 2g a day, more than I had ever used in the past. And I upped the quality (and the cost) too. By week 9 I was spending £500 a week and drinking 8 cans a night. I had doubled both the quality and the amount I usually needed for a blowout. I was unable to leave the house except very quickly for more beer and Rizla. I couldn’t drive any more as my vision and paranoia were so bad. I stopped eating and obviously exercising. I became completely Nocturnal. Then a couple of weeks ago a letter arrived for NG informing her to switch her pension as she had left her job.

This was the first hard evidence I had that she had left the Shire. I suspected it but I didn’t go looking for answers. It is my natural tendency to do so. I fought it. But this news hit me hard. It said to me that she had run away as far as she could. I took it personal because that is how it was meant for me to feel. She wanted me to know I was the Devil, and I had tricked her until now. But no more. She even told me as much. In the last contact I ever had with her she told me she would rather have Cancer than be me. Can you think of a more devastating final sentence to receive from the woman you adore and thought was moving back in with you in a couple of weeks? It hit me like a 10 tonne heavy thing, it was meant to, and since that day I have done everything I can to prove her right instead of wrong. She must be right. If she could get up from my bed sick and travel 100 miles to a friend, if she could decide to move there permanently, to leave her job and her beloved Shire with the possibility of facing a terminal illness alone, to take a new partner within 2 months and to completely blank me out of her life like the tumour she had cut out of her… what does that say about me? How fucking horrible must I be? Clearly all the times that we happily shared over the 4 years meant nothing in comparison and were without consequence to her. They were to me. They kept me focused. She was my drug.  They gave me a reason to not let the Monster return or let her down. My Mother and father told me the same thing when I was 6. They told me it again when I was 14 when they put me in care as I was starting my most important years in both maturing and studying. I left school a qualification free zone. My only purpose being a pawn in their dysfunctional marriage. They never showed me any love. The only love I had as a child finished at 10 when my Granddad died. How I wish he was here now to love me.

If things were not already bad enough, a friend asked me to message them on a chat program I didn’t use so I installed it. And then I saw it. I didn’t even go looking. There was NG sticking her tongue out at me with her new Man. Looking fit and healthy in the Green Seasalt coat I took her to buy in the Shire. She is so careful to protect her online presence, blocking me in one foul swoop on every Social Media outlet. And so I know that she wanted me to know.  I know she wanted to send the message again that I was history. A Bad dream. A anomaly in her past. A stain on her memory. She wanted to reinforce her disdain for me, her loathing. She scored a bulls-eye. Every time I look at the photo it does the job she leaves it there to do.

Since that day the Monster has been here. He has been feasting. He is consuming me. He is taking me away. The episodes of uncontrollable shaking are not new but the blacking out and falling over standing up are. I woke up on the floor in the kitchen today with blood gushing from a head wound. I didn’t even know why I was in the kitchen. I don’t know how long I was there. I don’t mind. It’s better that the Monster takes the Devil away. No one will know for a while anyway. I bet I can beat my Dad’s record of not being discovered for 3 months until the stench of his rotting body alerted the neighbours above his flat eventually. I could link this blog to my real Facebook page and still be way ahead. It will be a relief I wish I could be around for. I hope I know so I can smile at least.

At least this useless, painful, lonely and confusing journey will have finally come to an end. I have to admit to myself that my entire life has been a failure. I make people run away from me and hate me. I don’t bring any joy to the lives of others. I bring pain and suffering.

I am the Devil.