Link to Part One
As soon as @cathi-xx returned to Steemit we resumed our friendship where we left off two months earlier. I explained that I'd been going through a rough patch and needed to sort myself out and she said that she'd been busy with Christmas and had a bit of writer's block. I began opening up more about myself and explained about my low testosterone. With her support I decided to go to the doctor to get on testosterone replacement therapy.
I had been putting off going on testosterone for years because one of the side effects is sterility; instead I had been trying every other option to raise my test scores without any luck, but it seemed like an easier decision to handle with @cathi-xx on my side. The side effects of low testosterone include insomnia, lack of muscle , internal organ strain, low life expectancy and of course, low libido.
I had to anxiously wait through the weekend for my updated lab results to come back before I could get the testosterone. Then without my knowledge @giftedgaia began a fundraising campaign to buy me a microphone because he said that a poet should have a voice.
With so much going on I began to feel a lot of anxiety and I realized that I had accidentally forgotten to take any opiates for about 36 hours, which happened to be how long my days were at that time (awake 36 hrs; asleep 12hrs). My weened dose was extremely low, but I was about two weeks away from weening myself down to the ideal dose to quit with minimal withdrawals.
The first 48 hours of an opiate detox are rough hours, filled with anxiety, temptation, a sense of impending doom and to top it all off the brain begins making the same chemicals as someone experiencing the death of a loved one.
Suddenly it dawned on me that since I'd inadvertently stopped opiates for 36 hours, I might as well sleep for 12 hours and that would complete most of the first 48 hours of detox, it would be pointless to go through this again in two weeks time.
The next morning my psyche was demoralized by dripping bed sheets, soaked from the cold sweat which had seeped from my pores like an army of Viet Cong bursting from their spider holes in the dead of night to meet their fate.
I knew I had to act fast before the sweats increased and the waves of diarrhoea hit. So, I immediately rushed off to get the testosterone and a bunch of organic TV dinners, chocolate and kettle chips, because this was no time for cooking. I was so excited by the idea of having normal hormones that I had to force myself to wait until I got home to take it and not inject drugs in front of all the anxious soccer moms in the grocery store parking.
So, there I was sitting at home experiencing weird side effects from the testosterone, while my body was going into shock from a lack opiates. At this time I began to lean heavily on @cathi-xx for support and I tried to document my detox with two poems. (Tyrant & Commuters)
Then the microphone that @giftedgaia fundraised for was delivered and, after spending the majority of my internet life hidden in anonymity, I was very nervous to speak to anyone. So I decided to begin with someone that I felt very at ease with. I immediately asked @cathi-xx to go on Discord so she could confirm my fears: that I have a voice for print.
My heart skipped a beat when my ears met her alluring voice for the first time. I wasn't expecting to be so attracted to her voice, because this is the internet, so I was half expecting her to be a dude.
I could feel my anxiety heightening with every nervous joke, but she tried to sooth my nerves by suckering me into thinking that my vocal chords, impaired by Cerebral Palsy and years of living amongst hillbillies, actually sounded good.
We began talking on Discord every day and my feelings for her began to grow stronger as the weeks passed by. My heart began showing me glimpses of some idyllic future, but my mind was always quick to step in and point out the folly of my thinking.
Usually, if I was to pursue a girl, I would start off by showing her my good qualities in attempt to impress her, but I realised that I had already shared with her the most embarrassing moments of my life, thinking that I was safe and anonymous.
Strangely enough she never judged me and as we talked all day on Discord I kept getting the urge to tell her how I felt, but I feared that it would ruin our friendship and I wasn't willing to risk it, so I resigned myself to just keeping her as a best friend.
Then out of nowhere she sent me a long message, but since I find reading to be physically difficult, I assumed it was a Dear John letter and my stomach sank. I began skim reading it to get to the bottom of the situation and my worst fears were confirmed when I saw all the typical depressing words that have a tendency to cling like little parasites onto the pages of each Dear John letter.
I gathered up all my will power and sat down to read it properly, so I could formulate a plan to get her back. As I struggled to comprehend each line I realised that this was no Dear John letter, she was professing her love for me.
I was over the moon and I immediately told her that I felt the same way, although I was still trying to manage my expectations. However, @cathi-xx somehow tore down most of my walls and over the next few days I wrote the poem Into the light. Soon after she told me that the real reason that she had left Steemit over the holidays was because it seemed pointless without me.
It wasn't long before we decided that I should visit England for a few weeks, but then @cathi-xx asked, “but how will I let you go home again?” which was music to my ears. I immediately applied for a passport and I prepared for a one way flight to London
No sooner had I begun to wonder how I was going to pay for this trip, when I received a shocking gift from @begennintoend, he gave me the majority of his earnings that he made on Steemit, which was a considerable amount.
Over the next six weeks I struggled to pack up all my belongings, at first I could only manage about 15 minutes before the pain would force me to lie down, but as the weeks went by I became stronger and eventually I managed to get about 60% of everything packed away and left the rest for my poor family to deal with.
To be fair my style of packing also includes rounding up all the illicit substances that I used for pain management and taking them out to the woods to bury in my typical midnight holes. I managed to find at least 75% of the drugs.
As the final hours rapidly ticked away I struggled to pack my suitcases and the last thing I did was to disassemble my computers so that I could keep in touch with @cathi-xx. Not just for the typical bombardment of sweet nothings, but she was helping me to book my seat, find the terminal and remember what my flight number was.
With 48 lbs of computer components naively wrapped in suspicious amounts of duck tape, a oneway ticket and a head full of fantasies about the girl of my dreams, I foolishly embarked on a perilous journey toward an airport that was on high alert.
I've been in England for two weeks now and I have so much more to tell you guys, but @cathi-xx made me remove all the juicy bits and told me to end this by saying that this was the best decision of my life.