It’s Tuesday, readers. You know what that means: It’s time for Tuesday Trolling – when we compile the most thought-provoking, disease-spreading and skin-crawling of Craigslist’s sexverts.
We’re taking a little diversion this week to highlight a worrisome, touching and actually thought-provoking post sent from an Atlanta-based reader. It’s since been flagged for removal from the M4M section. Luckily our reader comes fulled equipped for foresight and copied the text, which we’ve included after the jump.
It’s unedited and not for the faint of heart. Or those looking to stay addicted to meth….
Title: I Am A Changeling:
In European folklore, a CHANGELING is the offspring of a fairy, troll, elf or other mythological creature that has been secretly left in the place of a human child. I am a changeling. Meth has taken me over, changed me and left me a ghost of a human being.
A ghost who is clean from meth for three years now.
Looking at me from the outside, one would not think I am a ghost. I am a full participant in the world to the untrained eye. I go to movies, I go out for meals, I attend concerts and I seem to be interacting with the world at large. Only, I am not. It is a charade that meth has created trapping my soul in my own private meth habitrail.
Little that I do interacts with people. I can attend movies and never speak more words then, â€œOne please, thank you.â€ I can be seen in the best restaurant and never utter anything but, â€œPasta please.â€ And, â€œMore butter?â€ Sitting in a darkened music hall, I can lose myself in the music without engaging a single soul. You see me out and about. You think I am â€œpartâ€ of a community. If you think this, you will be wrong. I am only part of the community of others like me; meth heads.
Using meth created endless illusions of the best of everything. I lived in a Utopia where all emotions that are painful were eliminated. I lived among tweekers who were open and exposed. We formed a tweeker tribe to protect one another from the harshness of living a real life and we made deals with the devil to give up our souls trapping ourselves in this, so called, Utopia. We believe we can never escape meth.
There are those of us who have broken the chains of meth. We have escaped. One can be free from meth but one can not be free from his memories. Memories of having no fear and a life full of confidence while on meth are strong. I want to return to my Utopia where I can live without sadness, shame or rejection. I want to live with complete confidenceâ€¦only; I know that these were illusions. It is just my memory playing tricks on me. The Utopia I dream of exists only in my mind.
Instead, I am busy filling up my time and avoiding meth. Sometimes that means I spend more time alone then most people. I adhere to my habitrail that is comfortable and familiar. I awake, go to the gym, return home and prepare for work, go out to dinner and sometimes even stop out and have a beer. To the untrained eye, I look like any other guy but to other meth heads, I am a ghost trying to balance reality with my memories.
If we can not rely on our memories, how can we rely on our reality?
I am a changeling. I am a meth changeling. My reality will never surpass the memory of what it was like to be high.
Talk about a much-needed Debbie Downer, huh? We wonder why it’s been flagged for removal.