The traditional dictionary definition of the difference is that an alcoholic will steal your wallet in a blackout, come to, and apologize for it. A junkie will steal your wallet and then help you look for it. But ultimately I think all addictions boil down to just not being able to be with yourself for any long degree of time.

I always tell myself, when I remember the non-stop self-generated hell party that used to be my life, I wouldn't be here if I didn't go there.

I always figured I myself would never be lucky enough to die, I'd just live on and on in this increasingly dreary spiral.

In my family, misery didn't just love company, it wanted hostages.

I don't really know how to do much else besides write.

You can't really compare hells. But I suppose the hell of being strung out on another person's addictive behavior is its own special thing.

I kept getting high to kill my shame at the fact that I kept getting high.