The worst part is I never got the HIGH of heroin. I never got the POP of pills. In fact, I never thought much of the seed tea at all except it just sorta made life nicer. But looking back, perhaps that is not what happened.
And life slips away. A cocoon of complacency. The shit part was the damn tea never fucked me up. It just slipped into my life and took control. Opiates makes the ocean uncomfortably cold. I used to surf before and after work. I still surf but am noticeably weaker in the lineup. And my brain. I am forgetting things. Repeating myself. Most of my long term planning involves ordering more poppy seeds before I run out. My truck has needed an oil change for three months. My radiator leaks. When I remember to fill it, I usually leave the cap off.
How did I not see the cycle rising again? Now the leash is too tight. Strangling me. Drowning my existence. So two days with no poppy seed tea. Pure hell. And according to the laws of the Universe, while I am laying here, I will get kicked again and again.
I am probably one of the first online lemmings to leap off this cliff. But I have always used the internet for immoral purposes. Pornography, ninja training secrets, pharmaceuticals from foreign countries and eBay. Before this baker, I had a Canadian "doctor" mail me codeine pills. After that dried up, I had a solid Indian connect that was good for hydrocodone. A Mexican man sent me fent lollipops. Then the dialup internet world of wild, wild west pharmacies dried up. So after I got tired of alcoholism and chugging dextromethorphan, I found the baker's post.
Wake up. Groggy, but solid eight hours of black sleep. And I'm still high. I shave, shower and eat toast. Then off to work. I hate this fucking place. My work has has everything from the owner fucking his cousin to massive commodities fraud to deal with. But I make nice bonuses so I put on the mask, lie accordingly and pretend to care. The first two hours are wasted. Drink some coffee and read the online articles. Later, I'll eat my flavorless lunch. The machine needs fuel.
After lunch, I'll mix two Gatorade bottles of poppy seed tea. Seeds, lemon and water. It tastes awful, but taste has never been the point. I drink one and feel better instantly. I take the other one to go. I work at least two more hours to gauge the office vibe. Nine times out of ten, the boss and his cousin are gone. So I talk to the facility manager because I am slightly responsible. He is the only person that actually works here. We set up orders and plan the next day. Then I leave.
It takes more than an hour until I FEEL the tea. And I never FEEL it like oxycodone or heroin. I just feel it. Sleepy, I go home and nap. When my alarm rings, I wake up blissed and go get my kids. Back home, we do homework and I drink beer. Around 6pm, I'll chug the other bottle, hide it in the trash and make dinner.
And the days just melted away.
"Hey what's up?" asks my wife.
"I got fired. Sorry."
"You did?" her voice goes to the same tonal range she uses to soothe our children's knee scrapes. "Oh...I'm sorry."
"It's ok" I sigh.
"Well, something else will turn up. It always does right?" soothes my wife.
"Yeah, I guess."
Like always, it's just a temporary thing. Just a little prescription love to get through this nasty tea. Just a little.
And the circle continues.