XXVII

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First forty-eight hours of cocaine withdrawal are more or less tolerable.

Muscle pains, tremors and chills aren't that severe to make me give up.

I even start thinking that my addiction isn't that bad in the first place and I can quit easily.

The real problems start right after.

After seventy-two hours of withdrawal my whole body is extremely exhausted, I have difficulty concentrating, every ounce of energy has completely left my body.

Panic sets in from time to time, the feeling of paranoia and fright doesn't leave me.

My appetite is increased, I can't stop devouring whatever I find in the fridge.

The skull crushing depression and anxiety are the most unbearable part. It feels like I've been thrown into the black hole with no means of return, and the hopelessness is fucking killing me.

That's when insomnia also kicks in. It's been ninety-six hours now and I haven't been able to get any decent sleep. The only time I'm able to fall asleep, I have to suffer from vivid nightmares.

"Every action has a reaction, you should have thought of the consequences earlier," I hear the dark shadow speak before it dissolves in the air.

"You are always so fucking miserable and it wears people out. Maybe that's why people leave you all of the time," the same voice whispers right into my ear.

"Shut the fuck up... Shut your fucking mouth," I scream at nothing in particular.

Psychosis is probably the worst part of withdrawal. You own mind becomes your worst enemy. You can hardly tell what's real and what's not.

Cravings are splitting me in half. I thought I'd be able to resist but I can't stop thinking about all the drugs I've ever taken. It doesn't matter what. I just need something.

The desire to end this torture and feel strong euphoric sensations again is overpowering me.

I'm frantically rummaging through all the drawers, pockets and bags in my apartment, trying to find anything.

I regret flushing all the stash I had down the toilet on the first day of my recovery process.

"Sash, don't, you're gonna be alright, just wait it out one more week," I see Vlad in front of me. I don't remember how he got here.

"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?" I ask him venomously, "Do you have any blow? Please share some with me, I'll return the favour I promise," I sound like a mad woman.

"No, you asked for my help yourself, you want to stop doing coke, remember?" he looks at me exasperatedly.

"Fuck off, Vladislav, I really don't need your help," I say groaning from the throbbing in my head.

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