#Recovering Addict

[grhmwtts]

lately,

i’ve been trying to hold space for the harsh realities—the limitations, regulations—i must impose on myself. i spent the past decade unlearning what my church had taught me to be definitively “good” or definitively “bad” and, in such, unleashed a brutal and intoxicating world onto my feeble, pastel body. in said liberation was a newfound understanding that there is no place for objectivity in regards to the good, the bad—but there is, and must be, subjectivity to the good, to the bad. i soon thereafter considered myself a hedonist, indulging in the endless search for pleasure with a fixation on the pursuit of a higher fix each time, because i had believed that since i had the capacity, the ability to do all things then i must do all things. i suppose, herein i shall introduce emotional intelligence, making its entrance in stride, arm-locked, with a sense of identity. somewhere, in the place where their skin meets, warm by their intertwining arms, resides desire—futile, pulsating—escaping. this is where i find myself now: captivated by their entrance, rotten as intrusive thoughts darken the stained glass windows of the church of my mind. what ceremony is this—i dare not ask. but i am keen, and i am ruined, like never before. my veins rupture, an aneurysm of a divinity, where the “good” and the “bad” seek to tear apart each ligament of mine. in these spaces between possibility is the understanding that anything can reside within it, for the specifics do not dictate the general picture—the microaggressions do not typically overtake the one’s impression of character—but certain matter does make a knee capable of bending or in need of replacement. as such, it is within our own genetic, emotional, makeup which suggests what matter might be best for our personal functionality, ease of existence. and only, through the desire brought by contact of emotional intelligence and a sense of identity, their two independent entities and the room that is this church that is this world, that this life of a mind, do we begin to understand how exactly to piece together this body, this world, this life of self. in this process, i find myself. in this process, i find myself questioning my individuality, examining it through a lens and finding in what ways it differs to that of the general understanding, the inundation of mass media. but only in the quietude can i find myself. so i hold space for the harsh realities—the understandings crippling my adolescent-views of self, world. and i allow myself to accept—radically, theatrically, screeching in beauty and terror—that what is “good” for me is good for me, what is “bad” for me is bad for me, and neither of these standards decree a general “good” or a general “bad”. they instead eradicate judgement, eradicate fear, and invite empathy and honor to each outlook. i, still worry-minded and adolescent-angsted, wish to know how good/bad works for other people, hope that i am not the only one to feel so alienated by the way the world apparently works. but in the most minute senses: i must think of these guideposts as allergies. varying in intensity from discomfort to death, i must know the risks and remedies. i must accept that my body, my brain, might not take to 0T7 very well. even if 0T7 is commonly revered, i must instead respect my own limitations, and see them for what they are: understandings which enable me to find my own ease of existence, embrace my personal functionality at its best. it’s a long, hard-fought battle to recognize one’s own capacities and shortcomings. tis an arduous process, what most call life. and i am thankful to recognize that these specifics contribute to what makes me me, similar to the atoms, to my genetics, a glorious collision suggesting life, i get to embrace my own harsh realities. for the world is vast and we can lose ourselves within it. the self is vast and we can find our world within it.

[actuallyverynormalbtw]

Seeing my vent blog turn into a recovery blog

[mx-morbid]

1 year and 11 months sober. slowly but surely getting my life together. 🖤

[melicious-compliance]

Uh, hi. This is my blog. You can be here, if you wanna. If you want a lot of reblogs on your dash, you can follow @melicious-compliance-reblogs.

DNI: younger than 13 (breaking tumblr TOS), nsfw/kink, radqueer, abdl, ddlg + variants, ageplayers and petplayers (“sfw” or not), anti-endo (and syscourse in general), anti-agere/anti-petre, people who can’t disagree with things and not be hateful — And if I don’t like you, I’ll just block you.

While I’m not uncomfortable with minors interacting, keep in mind that I am an adult and neither our life nor our regression is perfect, and we might post about that sometimes. More on that in the My Stuff section.

It’s kinda hard for me to be online consistently, so please be patient with me if I don’t respond to things right away.

If you wanna be friends, please just send an ask! If you get nervous doing things without structure, just say: “Hi! Nice to meet you! My name’s [your name].” Anon asks are on, so you can sign the ask with a sideblog’s url, or use some other sign-off if you want. I’m not gonna judge.

My People

I have a little! I am proud to be called Mama by my sweet, most adorable little princess @tiny-petal-princess. And we have a caregiver, the amazing and dependable @yourstarryknight. I also have a wonderful girlfriend, @valeries-starry-dream! My host has her own sideblog, @itty-bitty-bunbun. Vae loves talking to people and making friends!

About Me

My name’s Mel. That’s kinda important to say, I guess. I think I use she/he. I don’t know a lot about who I am as a person, so I list it here. To remind myself, I guess.

I’m a member of a system, but I’m not gonna say which one. If you know, please don’t say anything about it. I’m also a subsystem myself, so… yeah.

We collectively struggle with depression, anxiety, and hypersexuality.

I’m kinda goth/emo, I guess. I’m not sure what the difference is…? But like, only in aesthetic. I wanna be cute and act cute, and I think dark/black stuff is cute.

Collectively, I am a caregiver-leaning flip. Technically. Melody is a little, and the rest (I think) are caregivers.

I’m quite stubborn, but uh, easily flustered too.

I want to be seen and heard. I want to be known. I want to exist.

I’m also a recovering addict. I’m not gonna say what from, not in my pinned post, at least.

My Stuff

This will most likely be an agere-based blog, as well as just a personal blog. I’d like to have a life and make friends and stuff.

I can’t promise that what I’ll post is always gonna be child-friendly, since life is a mess sometimes. That stuff will be tagged #melinoe’s mess so filter that if you don’t want to see that! This is not an NSFW blog. I think there is a fair distinction between NSFW and not child-friendly. I am an adult, and I’d like to talk about adult things in a respectful manner.

Our Facets

We all use the same names. But, we will tag our posts when it’s relevant. They will be tagged as:

#🧡🖤 - Melinoe, less kid-liking, more adult. (22)

#🧡🤍 - Melissa, pious, very pure. (22)

#🧡🩶 - Melanie, pretty chill, likes kids. (18)

#🧡💖 - Melody, little. (2-5)

Other Tags

#hosting posting - Stuff I post for my host.

#yappint - Original posts.

#still yappint - Self-reblogs, when I add something to it.

#i thought i had a reblog tag - Reblogs where I’m talking to people.

#going forward going back fic - The ISAT agere fic my host and I write.

Taken Anon Sign-offs

🦝 | 🌿☁️

[soulsoffairlight]

Dear ADHD friends, especially my newly diagnosed ones/ those who are just starting out on medications,

I am not a doctor. But I feel that every ADHDer taking medications should know,

Your ADHD medicine may stop working over time. This is called tolerance. It is normal and even to be expected.

Try not to immediately let your doctor up your dosage... and possibly make you feel the need to abuse.

Please, CONSIDER ASKING YOUR DOCTOR ABOUT TOLERATION BREAKS FIRST.

(Toleration breaks without guidance can lead to withdrawal, please be very careful and research the medication you are taking.)

And if you must increase dosage to the max and find yourself growing tolerant,

REMEMBER THAT THERE ARE MANY OPTIONS OUT THERE. YOU DO NOT NEED TO RESORT TO ABUSE.

Drug abuse, in general, is a stigmatized topic, and toleration for prescribed stimulants is something that I believe doesn't get talked about enough.

Your health is far more important than your grades, your work, and anything else your ADHD medicine may assist you with.

Toleration is your brain's response to the effects of stimulants over time. While some people experience it faster than others and it varies from person to person, there's a good chance that everyone taking stimulants will come across it at one point.

But once it happens, it's not the end of the world.

I'm recovering from stimulant abuse, and I NEED you to know, my friend:

The capitalist mindset may make you feel like you need to prioritize your ability to keep up with a neurotypical society over all else, but trust me. Your health comes first. No matter how demanding the world can be for us, you should NEVER risk hurting your body just to satisfy the increasingly harsh expectations of those around you.

Doctors will often immediately resort to upping your dosage in response to toleration. Once you've found your ideal dosage, avoid this unless absolutely necessary. Discuss toleration breaks with your doctor first.

It's a capitalist tactic to up your dosage when it's possibly not necessary with a little bit of breaks and listening to your brain.

By going off your medicine for a certain amount of time, the lack of stimulus may help your brain reduce that tolerance.

I didn't know this because toleration breaks don't get talked about enough.

This is what led me to stimulant abuse.

I kept growing tolerant to my medicines in a couple of weeks. Every time, my psychiatrist upped my dosage.

Eventually, I was at the max dosage. But I grew tolerant yet again.

I felt that I needed to risk my health in order to stay on top of school. So, instead of trying to take a break or getting help from my parents/doctor, I began to combine my medication with heavy energy drinks. Even if it worked, I felt sick. I was nauseous. I was shaky. I vomited. I couldn't eat. I struggled to breathe.

But I continued, and eventually started double dosing.

I became violently angry to the point I lost multiple friends. My stress was at an all-time high to the point where I couldn't sleep at night. I began to lose weight because I couldn't eat due to both loss of appetite and a sudden fear of gaining weight. My physical health got worse and worse. My goal was to get my grades up, but my grades also suffered.

Not long after, my body finally had enough, and I almost had a heart attack.

My parents finally saw through my masking and realized that something was wrong. I was taken to therapy where I got the help I needed.

I was taken off the medications for some time... and yes, I struggled with school. However, with the help of therapy, my parents, and teachers, I was able to make it through.

By the time I took my medicine again at a lower dose, it worked just like it used to. As I continue to heal, toleration breaks help me in ways that I cannot express in words. I've gotten much better thanks to it.

I learned it the hard way.

Stimulant abuse is never the answer. It's not worth it.

Some time without your medicine may be difficult, but trust me. It's far more worth it than risking your health and even life only for it to make everything worse. I'm BLESSED that my situation wasn't worse.

Keep your head high. Know that you are not a working machine, and you are a strong, beautiful human being that can get through this. You may feel belittled by the neurotypical "standards" that our society unfortunately has, but you're worth way beyond that. It's up to you to put your foot forward and have a say in your treatment.

And if you are currently going through stimulant abuse, know that you've got this. It's not your fault. You're completely valid. There is plenty of hope. Seeking help can save your life. Reach out to parents, doctors, school counselors, teachers, family members... ANYONE.

If you don't have anyone you feel you can safely speak to, here are some resources:

US:

UK:

FIND HOTLINE FOR YOUR COUNTRY:

[lobotomyd0ll]

Little Girl Lost

Getting sober from hard drugs, especially heroin really is like being reborn. I've spent years nodding off, numbing & forgetting. Each time you pull a plunger of the rig back you chip away parts of your identity... Until there's nothing left. I think that's why it's so hard to stay sober. When you realize you don't know who you are anymore it's terrifying. Your own thoughts and feelings feel foreign to you. So you run back to the one thing that feels familiar, even though its the very thing that put you in that predicament in the first place.

I've had a thousand different "personalities" before I stopped shooting up. All of them were failed attempts at trying to establish a life for myself that could never be lived because I was still killing myself on a daily basis. Each persona dying quicker than the last. It wasn't until I had spent years in therapy, without doing drugs that I finally got to know myself. People always tell you that they miss the person you used to be before you ever picked up substances. And so a lot of people strive to become the person they were before they became a junkie. The problem with that is that person is what lead you to selling your soul. The person you used to be was in so much pain they sought out a lethal relief from it.

The person you were before you got high is never going to come back. They were gone the minute you found out what it felt like to not feel at all. When you get clean you have to figure out how to live life again while trying to figure out who you are at the same time. And if you started doing drugs when you were a kid like I did, you never really had a chance to grow up either. Most addicts have some form of mental illness too. In my case I am bipolar. It took me years after getting clean to figure out who I truly am. I've been sober for 5 years now and it wasn't until about 1-2 years ago that I felt like I had finally "found myself." I hate the term "found myself" because its always used in such cliché examples, but if you are in recovery then you know that its the only way to describe what its like.

Every day I'm still finding myself. When you're in active addiction your only focus is getting drugs and doing drugs. In all that time you didn't do things that "regular" people did. You didn't explore different hobbies or watch tons of movies. You didn't binge watch your favorite tv shows or read books that changed your life. I'm not saying you never do those things while you're on drugs, but most people (like me) barely ever explore different interests because my main interest was heroin.

Now that I am sober and I am completely aware of who I am and what I love, I appreciate everything so much more now. My interests are not just interests anymore, they are my life line. My obsessions. My oxygen. I am autistic so I have a ton of special interests too, but all of my interests mean a great deal to me. Nowadays if i discover a song i like i will listen to it on repeat for 3 days. I will watch the same film 20 times in a row without getting sick of it. In my opinion, addicts never stop being addicted to something. I think us addicts will always replace drug addiction with an addiction to something else. It could be a lot of things or one big thing. It differs between different types of people. Heroin almost killed me and I wish I could take away all the pain and suffering it caused me and everyone around me, but in a weird way I am sort of thankful to have gone through it because of the way it has made me view life today.

I appreciate little things so much more than other people do. I enjoy video games that make me happy in a way that people enjoy going to an amusement park. My favorite books, characters, fictional environments and songs are all little pieces of who I am. I am so grateful for media. I'm so grateful to have constant access to it via my phone or television, etc. I love that I can write about it all I want to whoever is reading this blog. I'm not really sure with where I'm going with this post, I just wanted to share what was on my brain. I am currently trying out new forms of art and incorporating my interests into filmography, crochet, painting, etc. & I was thinking about how just 5 years ago I didn't even know I possessed the talent for some of these things. & How if I hadn't gotten sober I never would have discovered who I am. Getting sober is very freeing, but true freedom is knowing exactly who you are and embracing it. I used to try to shrink myself to make other people feel comfortable. My style was "too much" for them or the way I come off to certain people seems "weird." I decided actually pretty recently that I'm not doing that anymore. I shouldn't have to feel small because others want me to. I went through hell to discover who I am and I intend to be myself and do what I love and what makes me happy, unapologetically.

[recovery-journey2021]

8 days sober. That means something.

[happysadgirl909]

Walking On A Tightrope

I’m walking on a tight rope.

I’m upright.

Fearless.

Bold.

Steady.

Then.. I’m shifting to the left.

I’m fed up.

Fucked up.

Shut up.

Beat up.

All of a sudden.. I’m shifting right.

I’m loving.

Doting.

Content.

Optimistic.

When suddenly I’m hit with MORE bullshit

I shift back to the left.

Then I’m losing grip.

Torn.

Sad.

Hopeless.

I

fall

off

of the left side.

[strangementalitycrown]

I am the one who says a prayer before taking cocaine in the bathroom. It is not my happiness, yet I let it lead me by the throat anyway. My brain bleeds, and I can do nothing but swallow it. It’s a nauseating taste, but so is life. And I am here, after all. You wonder, though, why I always have faith in God and why my bed is always clean. I must explain to you the consequence of open wounds in a dirty coffin.

[intersexfairy]

re: CDC reblog

no but. i am actually dissociating really hard right now. looked the shit up to confirm it and it's . yep . y u p

lads is it morally reprehensible to go do drugs in response to this. it won't make anything better but - sigh. fine. no drugs. maybe.

UGH. i wish i could scrub the idea of abstinence out of my BRAIN. something something well-adjusted to a sick society.

[deliriiomental]

why not tho

[mouse-heals]

My therapist suggested I should buy a chocolate bar today and see how I handle having it at home.

I kept thinking about it all afternoon. I had half of it earlier, but it didn't give me the same kick I used to get from it before. I didn't binge, I didn't eat the entire thing. The other half is still in the kitchen. Still on my mind, but without the kick, it really is just a snack.

Chocolate is... fine, I suppose? Like, not a huge trigger food? Cookies or cake would be much harder to handle I think. I'll see how long I can keep the rest of it in my kitchen before I go for it.

I'd say that was a relapse. A minor relapse.

[sadredgiant]

Hehe she will never know 🤫(true story btw)

[happysadgirl909]

Welcome to my page of introspection. 👁️‍🗨️

I’m an imaginative storyteller, weaving life’s moments into poetry. As a passionate and expressive soul, I share my journey through words—capturing the beauty in vulnerability and authenticity. Join me as I dream, reflect, and create.🪽

[strangementalitycrown]

I am always expected to cry at funerals.

But my eyes stay dry, and in the flicker of my lashes, they call me hollow— an empty vessel waiting for grief to take shape. As if sorrow only matters when it spills over, raw and visible. I search for what feels lost, as if I could hold it in my hands. Something to show the world I am not untouched. The dirt hits the coffin with a dull thud, sobs ripple through the crowd, the young, too young to understand, and all I feel is an aching stillness.

All I have is a sigh, a tremor in my fingers, and a tension coiled so tight it will never unravel into tears. Or maybe I’ve just always known— death has never needed our weeping.