I don't use this place half as much as I'd like which is why I need to stay clean.
Long story short I'm a poly addict of twenty years (drug of choice these days is anything opiate based) who has moved around a lot. I stopped using precisely 15 days ago with the intention of never using again. I hit my rock bottom about three months ago, ended up under the crisis team back in my hometown, worrying all my close friends and family (most of which have absolutely no idea I'm an addict or the extent to which I'm an addict or any real clue what addiction is).
Anyway, drugs came up as a problem during a counselling sesh with the crisis team and they suggested going to a treatment place to speak with them. Did that, realised I have a massive drug problem, became overwhelmed and almost got into rehab before running away and trying to sort my life out independently through continuing NA meetings (fucking amazing), a second treatment place (not that useful as they only have these drop-in sessions which I'm too low in mood to attend) and trying to stick to benzos only.
Obviously the plan didn't work out. Right away I was using anything and everything around the clock, culminating in a final weekend massacre of MDMA, coke, valium, acid, opium, alcohol and fuck knows what else. Collapsed from exhaustion after trippinf for about twenty hours and couldn't get out of bed to order more drugs. Spent the first week battling physical withdrawal, calling up my recovery contacts and then the second week (right up until now) I've had nasty psychological withdrawal. Been pretty suicidal since last Wednesday which is ongoing from early summer when my personal life truly took a nosedive.
I'm now moving back to my hometown on Tuesday on a permanent basis (at least until I sort my shit out) and will be engaging with the people in recovery. But I feel like my life is fucked and I'm wracked with anxiety about it all. I've been isolated for at least the last five years of my using and although I love people, I can't be arsed being around them at the moment. My head is fucked. I just want to lie on my bed, watching crap, eating crap and sleeping which is not an option anymore as I'm flat broke and this is no kind of life.
I also know that while I'm burnt out now, there will come a time when I'll be thinking about using again and then it's the slippery slope to self-destruction. I'm already craving morphine, but know it's a bad idea because nothing works for me anymore and I just end up crashing into anxiety, depression, psychosis, suicidal ideation and paranoia that I'm a shit human being.
Fuck knows if I'll make it to 2019 and, if I do, what it'll look like. I hope I can pull myself together and be a better person.
So that's me.
Merry Christmas.
Long story short I'm a poly addict of twenty years (drug of choice these days is anything opiate based) who has moved around a lot. I stopped using precisely 15 days ago with the intention of never using again. I hit my rock bottom about three months ago, ended up under the crisis team back in my hometown, worrying all my close friends and family (most of which have absolutely no idea I'm an addict or the extent to which I'm an addict or any real clue what addiction is).
Anyway, drugs came up as a problem during a counselling sesh with the crisis team and they suggested going to a treatment place to speak with them. Did that, realised I have a massive drug problem, became overwhelmed and almost got into rehab before running away and trying to sort my life out independently through continuing NA meetings (fucking amazing), a second treatment place (not that useful as they only have these drop-in sessions which I'm too low in mood to attend) and trying to stick to benzos only.
Obviously the plan didn't work out. Right away I was using anything and everything around the clock, culminating in a final weekend massacre of MDMA, coke, valium, acid, opium, alcohol and fuck knows what else. Collapsed from exhaustion after trippinf for about twenty hours and couldn't get out of bed to order more drugs. Spent the first week battling physical withdrawal, calling up my recovery contacts and then the second week (right up until now) I've had nasty psychological withdrawal. Been pretty suicidal since last Wednesday which is ongoing from early summer when my personal life truly took a nosedive.
I'm now moving back to my hometown on Tuesday on a permanent basis (at least until I sort my shit out) and will be engaging with the people in recovery. But I feel like my life is fucked and I'm wracked with anxiety about it all. I've been isolated for at least the last five years of my using and although I love people, I can't be arsed being around them at the moment. My head is fucked. I just want to lie on my bed, watching crap, eating crap and sleeping which is not an option anymore as I'm flat broke and this is no kind of life.
I also know that while I'm burnt out now, there will come a time when I'll be thinking about using again and then it's the slippery slope to self-destruction. I'm already craving morphine, but know it's a bad idea because nothing works for me anymore and I just end up crashing into anxiety, depression, psychosis, suicidal ideation and paranoia that I'm a shit human being.
Fuck knows if I'll make it to 2019 and, if I do, what it'll look like. I hope I can pull myself together and be a better person.
So that's me.
Merry Christmas.