"Never Opened Myself This Way"

Breathe. Just breathe. Slowly, slowly now, and don't look down at your arm. Stare at the white expanse of the wall in the hallway; focus on the big number 2 to the left of the open doorway you can almost catch a glimpse of. And breathe -- don't forget that. Now you're done, and the needle is coming out of your arm, and the white tape over cotten is going to help you. Focus on the white cotton. Don't look at your blood in the vials. Don't think about how sick you feel. Carefully out, and they're saying something to you, something about having a nice day, and then there's sunlight, and the car. Unlock the door, sit down, turn the key, crank the a/c way up. Turn some music on -- loudly. Concentrate on the music, concentrate on your breathing, and now EAT. Slowly. Yes, good. Lay back for a while, it'll help your dizziness. Light-headedness and swimming vision and spots subsiding, now time for home. Pray you don't faint on the way and kill someone. The music will help you, and the cool air, and the breathing. Oh, listen to that, Metallica has just come on, you love this song. No singing along, it's too far, just quickly get home, park, don't worry that it's crooked, get out and up the stairs, open the door, brother there with the phone. It's Mom. Of course it's Mom, you knew that when he handed you the phone, it's why you answered in your funny voice. She's saying words, she won't go, you need to go, you need to go, you need to go, goodbye and click. The phone misses the table and hits the floor. Get down, on the ground, feet up, slow breathing. Lay there for a while. Don't get sick all over. Don't lose consciousness. Mind over matter.

Never again.