Missing the excitement

My life used to be exciting. And by exciting I of course mean really fucking dangerous. Riding on the back of a stranger's moped through the rain in Paris? Done it. Dancing barefoot to Chelsea Dagger on stage at a gig before running around central London trying to find my drug dealer? Done it. Moving across the world for a man I've known for three days? Done it. If it's spontaneous, stupid and can give me an unwarranted feeling of euphoria that lasts about three and a half minutes then the chance is I've given it a go at some point. But now the most terrifying thing I do is talk about my feelings. 

And trust me, I'd pick having sex with a stranger in Berlin in exchange for cocaine any day of the week. 

But that's a post for another day.

I miss how easy being a drug addict is, but I also miss how exciting it is. The anxiety and anticipation I'd feel walking up to my dealer was unparalleled. Searching eagerly for a public bathroom to do a line in in the middle of a shopping centre fed me. I'd even find it funny if I heard other people snorting lines in the stall next to me, knowing I'd been doing the exact same thing. There's an element of fun and thrill that comes with using drugs, even when you get to the stage where you physically can't cope without them. And now I've stopped using cocaine, the list of things that give me that level of excitement has shrunk.

Part of me is scared that losing this excitement is a symptom of growing older and wanting to feel that thrill again makes me childish. I'm always a bit scared of being seen as childish, but BPD loves to fuck with your self-perception. I don't want to lose the exciting part of my life by getting older and sober, because I don't want to live a boring life. Part of me feels pathetic and like I'm trying to hold onto my past, but I need excitement. And I don't think there's anything wrong with that, 

It could be that I'm comparing myself to other people my age. People in their thirties tend to have kids, marriages, mortgages, and careers. I live alone in a studio apartment and work as a bartender while I'm getting my writing career back on track. I've only now, at 32 years old, entered into my first stable relationship. And I have friends who are divorced. 

Not that I'd want that but that's besides the point. 

I don't want that life, I don't want a marriage, mortgage or children. But I know I need the stability to manage my BPD and stay drug-free. I just don't know how to find the balance between living an exciting life and leading a life that could immediately end after one bad choice. I'm not used to wanting to live, and I don't always want to live. But I haven't actively wanted to commit suicide in a very long time, so it seems maybe I'll be here longer than I thought. 

I just don't want the time I'm here to be boring. 

Stay safe on the road 

Jess