I Am a Junkie
I am a junkie and no one knows. No one cares. People look at me differently than they used to, they stare, they talk. I ignore it. I don’t care.
People that use drugs are considered “junkies” if they are addicted and do not want to stop. I used everyday; I look forward to using tomorrow. I can’t wait! I look forward to reloading because I “jones” if I am out. When I am down to my last my little bit, all I can think about is getting more and when I do, it’s euphoric! The brain is an amazing tool; I let it control my body. The body does what the mind tells it to, my brain says, “get more” and I do. But, my mind isn’t always talking about drugs when it says, “get more!”
I go to the gym everyday. I eat the same things at the same time everyday. I take my drugs at the same time everyday. I love my routine. I am a junkie. I am not a crack addict, a meth user, a cokehead. I am a testosterone junkie. I love loading the dart, feeling the pin pierce the skin as it goes an inch into the muscle. I aspirate the syringe, no blood, and I push with a smile on my face. 1ml, 2 ml, 3ml, I love it all. But, unlike Latarmer in the movie “The Program”, I do not do concentration curls after the shot is done. I lay back and imagine what I will look like because of the sacrifices I have made. No holidays, no late nights at the bar, no eating McDonalds because it’s convenient. If bodybuilding was easy, everyone would do it, but everyone doesn’t. I will never forget where I started and I will never forget where I want to be.
I don’t look like a crack head, I look like the complete opposite, but anything outside the norm, well, you get noticed. Trust me, in my community, I get noticed. Either women look at you and smile, or they turn away. Any women that have been with a bodybuilder knows the difference, they do not turn away. Guys on the other hand have a complete and opposite reaction. A guy will look at me and think, “Well, I better not fuck with him” or, “This guy thinks he’s big. I wonder how big he will feel when I kick the crap out of him.” The first happens all the time, the latter, not yet.
I love to train. I love to eat. I love to sleep. I love the way testosterone makes me feel. I love the way smoking pot makes me feel. I love the way sex makes me feel. I am a “feel good junkie” and no one knows. No one cares. Do you?