SEEM is the operative word there.

Hi, my name is Jax, and I'm a vicodin junkie. I love the stuff... it makes the pain stop, and for me, that's a good thing. Sure, sometimes I'm a masochist... but I like being hurt in controlled, pretty ways... not torn apart inside with no control, nowhere, and so much pain I can't even breathe... vicodin makes it stop. It lets me sleep at night, it lets me not stress, not worry... gods, it feels so GOOD. And I'm addicted.

I've been on and off of various pain pills most of my life, for various health reasons... Vicodin, though... it's got me so hooked. I'd take it all the time if I could. I love the rush. I love the relief. I love the release.

So now I'm on vicodin... 30 little pills. I've already taken one. I am floating... high, very high, and it's so sweet. 29 left. If I had the patience, the self-control, I would take ONE a day, make them last a month... but I won't. I like them too much, I will take several a day. At night, I will fall asleep, tripping. In the morning, one to make the headaches and dreams go away. More and more... I keep wanting more.

"I'm not an addict, it's cool, I feel alive / if you don't have it you're on the other side / I'm not an addict, baby, that's a lie..." but I am. I so am. And oddly enough, I'm not really ashamed of it... I know WHY I am addicted, I know it's years of being sick, not some conscious choice to jab a needle in my vein or some drug-pusher's idea. *shrug* Life goes on.

I think I need another already. Gods... they go so fast.