A____ stopped over yet again this morning, this time just so I could fix her up. I clipped 15 mg from her without her even knowing, so that worked out nicely. Went to work, it was one of the busiest days I’ve ever worked so far at the flats. Things kinda broke down there for a while. They really have no clue as to what the f*** is gong on there, at all it seems. It was a bad night also because A____ kinda got a little cold about helpin me out with the whole drug business; I had to limp over to J____’s and beg for a 30 mg with the last $8 I have to my name. Good thing it worked out and I staved off the sickness for a little longer. But, tomorrow I really have not options left except dope sick. I don’t think I have any more avenues left to my disposal; I’m broke, and now I wonder if A____ is gonna come thru with some suboxone [I couldn’t figure this word out, so if you know let me know and I will fix it, Matt’s mom.] help. Maybe it’s better in the long run if she doesn’t; I need to kick down–or off for that matter. It would be amazing freedom if I could just get off, get away from all this shit. This worry about being physically sick is just the worst. My tracks from the last week are starting to really show. I need off this shit, fast.
Intake: 45 mg morphine IV
(If you are following Matt’s journals you are maybe starting to see how very much he wanted to be free. So often in passing conversations with those who are confronted with addicts I hear their condemnation and monkey court verdicts; they really don’t realize how very much the addicts want to be free. Yes, they hold on to their addictions, and putting someone in a rehab is something like trying to force a cat in a toilet bowl–claws out and terrified. However, as I read Matt’s journals for the first time after his death, I realized how very trapped and hopeless he felt. How many others right this moment are feeling the same–trapped, worried, frightened? Matt’s mom)