I remember getting clean here and there throughout the last ten years. And I remember telling people that I was doing great; getting a job, going back to school, trying to mend broken relationships with friends and family. Whatever it was at that time, whatever I used to make myself sound like it was the last time trying and everything was great, and nothing could go wrong. Whatever it was, I knew in the back of my mind that I was desperately lying to myself wanting so bad to believe it was true. But I knew otherwise. I knew after a month or so that I would be right back where I was expect a little further in each time.
I mean c’mon. Anyone who is an addict or knows an addict knows that they lie and manipulate. They will do anything in their power to do what they need to do to get their fix, whatever that may be. But not only do they lie to others. They lie to themselves to get by.
When I was thirteen I started popping pills, and got hooked within one night. I remember saying I know I’m addicted to pills (E, MDMA, whatever I could get my hands on) but I will never ever stick anything up my nose. Well within a year I was snorting any pill I got, and then I tried coke. And shortly after prescription pain pills. After one night I was hooked. I said I would never stick a needle in my arm. Actually I was terrified of needles. Well although this step took a little longer to get to, it happened. It happened once and then it never stopped and it almost ended my life. Not only was I shooting pain pills and heroin. But I got addicted to the ritual and routine of shooting up. It was the rush I was going for, but just the process on its own was enough to make me keep going.
But it all came to a screeching halt when I almost overdosed. I ended up in the hospital and it was scary, it scared the hell out of me. I almost lost my life. And more then anything in that moment I felt selfish for putting my family through yet another turmoil.
Where I’m trying to go with all this I’m not sure but it’s a lifetime battle. I feel I’m always being tested one way or another. When my parents moved me away to get me to stop using coke. The first person I met was a coke dealer. When I stopped using pain pills for the first time, I went on methadone. After a year I decided I was okay to get off the methadone and within a month I got in a car accident and was badly injured. I was then prescribed the very things I battled for years.
My point is it’s a never ending battle and you will be challenged, and sometimes you will want to throw your hands in the air and beat your fists on the floor. It sucks, it really sucks sometimes. But it is possible.
Hopefully this time is truly the last time. It feels different this time. I actually believe in myself this time. Something I have never felt before. There is a huge difference between doing it for others and doing it for yourself. This time I am doing it for myself.