Age 25, in worst shape I can remember, outside and inside. Somethings gotta give.
(C/P-ed [again] bc i realize this is probably where this post belongs.)
I'm 25 now, been an addict since 15. Started IVing heroin when I was 17. Went to rehab twice last year, in April and June - relapsed within 24 hours after April's 21-day stint, came out in July '14 (after the full 30!) on the vivitrol shot (30 day extended release naloxone) but was shooting up BTH before it even wore off, in anticipation lol.
I'm now on MMT, have been for a couple months, but still have not been able to put together any clean time... yet.
Just this year started experiencing big consequences. Got kicked out of a living situation due to my addiction (my roommate found out I was shooting up) and lost the best job I've ever landed after 6 months (receptionist at an amazing - probably the best - veterinary hospital in the area. Full time, benefits, PTO, the works.) That happened 8 days ago, and I've been on a hard binge ever since, catatonic, not eating, mostly bed ridden and shooting hundreds of dollars a day of coke (cut with meth) and BTH. My arms are shredded, my skeleton is showing through my skin, I am at the end of the road.
I just... wish there was a way to experience that euphoric rush without having to do such bad, shameful things, and endure such earth shattering consequences. I have a hard time envisioning a future in which I patiently work toward goals and achieving happiness (the slow, building kind/whatever that is) after having known that instant spike from a big hit, first try, with, well... a spike. In a way, (I preface it that way because I'm not sure that I'd take it all back if I could) I wish I had never crossed that line, opened that pandoras box. Now, the jig is up, I have to step back over to the world of the living. Sometimes I go to sleep knowing this to be a solid undeniable truth, and then wake up as if that decision had never been made. Or I start my day passively committed, then as soon as I gain some momentum, or even do something like eat a meal, walk the dogs, pay a bill, -take a shit- - literally - my memory of the agony of addiction and determination to move forward is erased, and before I know it, I've withdrawn money that I don't even have and desperately can't afford to toss, and am parked in front of the dealer's house, giddy and impatient.
I must be a fool. Or insane? But no, the latter condition would absolve me of responsibility, and I know damn well what I'm doing. Which makes it worse, really. I'm broken, and will not take the steps towards fixing myself. I need help. I'm not capable of manning this ship any longer.