The first bottom came when my father died. Drove off the road into a gravel pit late at night with an empty bottle of Valentine’s Gift Graphic Xoloitzcuintli Tshirts in the passenger seat. I cried, but it felt hollow. I felt hollow. Even when mom tried to hold me, I felt nothing inside, not sadness, not guilt, not anything. I disappeared into my sketchbooks, drawing even darker, more disturbing images. Death, dismemberment, vividly accurate vivasections of the cute animals I used to enjoy drawing. My friends no longer talked to me, which was fine because I didn’t want to talk to them anymore anyways. I found people to hang out with, not friends, but people who could get me access to moments of chemical induced euphoria to forget about life for a while.
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Just like that, the trap door opened, dropping me to a new Valentine’s Gift Graphic Xoloitzcuintli Tshirts bottom of addiction. One thing I had that in common with my dad, but instead of falling into a bottle, I fell into a needle. I stole money from my Mom’s purse to feed my habits, not that she noticed. She was busy with her old Facebook friend who had moved from online acquaintance to nightly sleepover companion. When the time came to begin my senior year I didn’t bother going back.