Stephen Pimley | Daily Life,Drugs,Illness,Memories,Thoughts | Tuesday, November 12th, 2013

Grocery stores are the most depressing places I have the displeasure of being on a regular basis. I don’t know whether it’s the terrible music, designed specifically to make people buy more; the shitty fluorescent lighting with every other fixture flickering at a different frequency; or maybe all the memories of panic attacks in the very same aisles as my heavy alcoholism robbed my heart of the ability to keep rhythm, and I had to hold onto my cart to keep from collapsing onto the floor.

Stephen Pimley | Daily Life,Drugs,Illness | Friday, September 13th, 2013

Why do the body aches from a cold or flu feel exactly like the body aches from opioid withdrawal? It is so triggering to feel like I did so many years ago. I just want to crawl under the warmest and softest blanket ever and then sleep for years. Or maybe inside of a cryogenic tube. In a thousand years they might be able to fix my brain. People of that day will at least know whether or not I’m hopeless and should be destroyed.

Stephen Pimley | Daily Life,Drugs,Illness | Wednesday, August 21st, 2013

“what is your post about hallucinating? what happened?”

I have HPPD and it waxes and wanes in intensity depending on my stress levels, the medication(s) I am on, physical activity, lack of sleep, as well as other factors I haven’t identified yet. It never goes away completely. I have millions of tiny lights flashing on and off every second I am awake. It looks like the “snow” or static on a television tuned to a nonexistent station. They are less noticeable when I am in a bright environment with lots of random color contrast. So outside when I am driving or otherwise moving at least at a walking speed it isn’t much of a problem. I could still see them if I looked down at the sidewalk or road surface but I won’t notice them in the grass or leaves of trees. Flat, solid colors or surfaces with very little texture and color variation make it worse. So solid colored walls, the blackness of an unlit room at night, and so on will appear to have millions of these flecks of light pulsating. Sometimes at night they can become so thick it appears as if a solid surface is hovering in the air in front of me. Unnatural or manmade patterns also make it worse. So indoors the typical patterned carpets you might find in offices (especially doctor’s offices for whatever reason) totally bug my eyes out. I can’t even focus on one spot on the floor because my eyes start bouncing from one section of the pattern to another similar section then back again.

My case is somewhat unusual in that my symptoms started long before I had been exposed to drugs. Around the 6th grade I started seeing ‘clouds’ of sparkles in the center of my vision at night when I was running up the stairs to go to bed. There was no light switch at the bottom of the stairs that effects the lights at the top, and vice versa. So at night I would have to flick off the switch downstairs (so I wouldn’t get yelled at for leaving it on) then dash upstairs and turn the light on up there. If I turned around and looked down the stairs it appeared as if this cloud of sparkles was chasing me up the stairs and then disappeared when I turned the lights on… Being young and impressionable I thought it was a ghost chasing me and that it would get me if I didn’t run fast enough.

I don’t know why but for the next few years the symptoms went away as far as I can recall. Then in the 10th grade I was put on Dexedrine (dextroamphetamine) for ADHD and the visual snow became constant whenever I was in darkness. On Dexedrine I also experienced greatly prolonged afterimages when reading and real (and terrifying) hallucinations at night when sleep deprived.

I was around the age of 19 when I realized one day while driving to my girlfriend’s house that my symptoms had become permanent, even in daylight. Two years later I told a neurologist about my symptoms and had an MRI with dye contrast that revealed nothing abnormal. Today my symptoms are pretty much as then. Reading books or the computer monitor leaves me with afterimages that appear as a shutterblinds effect of alternating horizontal bands of white and black across my entire field of vision. It can take 3-4 minutes for these afterimages to fade completely if I read for too long at a time. I should also mention that if I close my eyes in a totally black environment the static appears so bright it gives the impression there is a light in the room and that it is passing through my eyelids.

Burnt Beyond Recognition [Parts 1 & 2]

Stephen Pimley | Drugs,Family,Illness,Thoughts,Writing | Friday, July 26th, 2013

What is a life worth if to save it you must destroy all that it was? I thought I was wise enough given the circumstances. I thought I was doing all that I could. I tried holding a magnifying glass to the sun and burning a hole through my skull to exorcise all the dark and slithering things inside. I am left with a grey void where there was once an endless spring of light. I close my eyes and look inside a cold static field made up of a billion sparkles instead of the defined and brilliant images that used to form there. My ears pick up background hums from electronics and the creaking of an old ceiling fan where there was a chorus of neon angels playing tribute. There is a place deep inside of us where mirrors are meant to aim their focus into a single guiding ray. It is this core, heart of being that boiled off under the onslaught of my misdirection.

I wish I could describe my brain damage in a way that other people could understand. Something is gone where I used to be. I wish my family could stop believing in me so it won’t hurt so much when I have to leave them. This signal is breaking up and cutting out and I still haven’t had a chance to grasp what it was all about.

99 Days {revision 29}

Stephen Pimley | Drugs,Friends,Illness,Writing | Monday, July 22nd, 2013

I am not here to meet, or greet, or attempt to know why
There is nothing to be done to – or for my
Deck that’s cut and will not alter
Cards born to fail and wills to falter
Alas ne’er stroke of luck for hands to play
I must fold again to mark this day
Like all the other withheld conations
My mere reflections and observations…

I could turn my eyes back matte, exposing sockets now dimmed and empty
Revealing all too much of life spent blindly pushing through

The brier neither escapes the scrapes nor scars
For you’ll not – time to admire as you’ll too brush
Back the hair tangled, rotten, or serene
A little plastered, shorn, or keen
Strung to pale white newborn skin
Slipped from youthful hands, aged within
Bouncing and slamming against the tiled floor
Two eager heads
   Too quick
      To know a little more

The agony that promise empty came to be
Was truth that stormed so distantly
That foreigner insider inside her – all while
I tried to say the words to which I had
Not the depth or breadth of breath
As her car faded down a swollen street
To a warmer life, to a softer beat
Of men whose smiles will react
So nerves inflicted will not act
To all these things done to and for
Not the things I’ve seen before
Or all the things we tried to say
‘Fore the rest come and wash away
The stain on my lips of ever past
Of times and tears that will not last
In minds, like mine, feeding these fears…far, far too fast

And why am I thinking here again?
I promise myself though never mend
These truths or doubts of mine mind
Portend of mental rifts and never end
The reflections of here, there and more
The shades upon the pains hast before

So I must sit back and reflect:

On days ninety-nine long
Days like these, cards like these
Cuts of mortal hand where change cannot
Touch the day, today, everyday
Lift nor sift nor right the wrong of
Today the day – one hundred strong

©2006, 2009, 2010, 2013 Stephen Pimley

Stephen Pimley | Drugs,Random,Thoughts | Wednesday, December 31st, 2003

*feels hearbeat*
That’s my heartbeat.
Yes I know.
What control do you have over my heart?
I own it.
How does a drug own my heart?
That is my secret.
What does a heart matter to you?
You will speak when spoken to.
*feels heartbeat and stands up*
Go then.
Yes, I will.
*writes this*
*feels his heart pumping for salvation*
*gathers water*

Powered by WordPress | Theme by Roy Tanck