One of the worst things about addiction is the dread that slowly creeps up on you as you run out not knowing when and how you will score

On my way rn to the slummy parts of town again. Prices doubled over the last year. Every time I approach my last oxys a dread creeps up over me, like there is this terror that this time I won’t be able to find some more or won’t be able to afford them. Anyone else relate?