Trainer Andrew ♂, Day 52: Fidget

Now, I like to consider myself a pretty strong person, besides the prenatal murder and drug addiction, but getting clean is HARD.  Thank Celebi I have Lance to help me.  He invited me to watch the second day’s rounds, but I found it tough to pay attention to anything happening out on the field.  I did see Cyan and Purple, which begs the question of how either of them made it so far. 

Sitting still proved a little too difficult, and between rounds I went outside to pace violently around in circles.  I know I can’t get hooked again; I need to establish myself to Lickitung.  Everything just reminds me of feeling high.  There’s this uncontrollable urge in me to tackle near every Slowpoke I see and rip their tails off right there.  At night I get terrible headaches which make sleep near impossible.  The sun is too bright, noises are too loud, my nerves never settle which gives me a horrible tic, and keeping solid food down is a chore.  I’m a wreck, a sunken ship.

There’s a goal though.  As long as I can keep that running through my brain I can deal with anything.  Lickitung, Lickitung, Lickitung.  Over and over, deep into the night.  Lickitung, Lickitung, Lickitung. 

Maybe I can’t prove myself though.  She could have just done that as a way of tricking me.  She was always tricking me, trying to deceive me.  No, that’s not true but- I’m just not sure.  I simply feel antsy, that’s all.  There are bad dreams too.  Roaming hoards of Metapods peeking out from behind trees; their shells gleam in the moon and their eyes peer lifelessly into my own.

Anyway, Lance says he’ll try to keep me occupied to take my mind off the withdrawal.  Taking his attention away from what should be his time to view who could be the next champion, now that’s commitment.  I know I say it a lot, but the guy is a fantastic friend. 

Lickitung, Lickitung, Lickitung.

Your Slowbro is for shit,
Trainer Andrew ♂