So, I've been going through what folks would call a 'mental relapse' of late. It bothers me significantly but at the same time, I don't really give a shit.
I guess I started having these thoughts in the middle of the week. I wanted to have some beers after work. I called my sponsor after I got done work and made the last 2 minutes of a meeting here in town.
I understand that I'll have thoughts of using. Believe me, I've had plenty of moments and plenty of thoughts. This has been different. I think bI know the source/trigger that inspires them. Very simply, i feel inadequate.
Anyway, my folks went out of town and I told them I'd keep an eye on their place and swing by sometime and mow their lawn.
Saturday night I swung by their pad, picked up the newspapers laying out front and popped into the kitchen. For some reason it was very important for me to locate where my diabetic dad keeps his syringes nowadays. I looked in a few of the kitchen cabinets that used to be where they were kept but didn't see them. I started to get a bit obsessive about it and tore through every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen.
I managed to restore myself to some sort of sanity, locked the doors and went home.
Yesterday, I cruised back over their place to mow the lawn. After the yard work was done I searched for those syringes again. I looked in the same exact fucking spots as I did the might before (as if they would magically appear overnight). I stopped myself before I became too obsessive about it. I knew if I went through their bedroom I would be placing myself deeper into old behaviors that I am trying very hard to break myself from.
I had $35 in my pocket that day and as I was looking for those spikes I developed a plan. $20 would go to a half gram of coke, $10 would go to a bag of dope and $5 would go towards some shitty beer or a nick of weed.
This is how $35 would REALLY play out for me though. Yeah I would spend it according to the outline above but that would be a shitty relapse. If I'm gonna go the fuck out, I'm gonna go out hard so... Monday would be the first paycheck from my new job. I'd hit the ATM, buy a six pack of good beer, drink a few on my way to the city, buy 5 grams of powder, two nickels of weed (just because) and a bundle of dope.
Shit, today I'm thinking that, since I now know where to score meth in town (yeah we learn some other shit in NA as well) I would LOVE to try shooting it since I never have.
Know what's stopping me from getting high these past few days? Yeah, I absolutely 100% WANT to get fucking high, I wanna escape and feel falsely good about myself but I really don't want all the other shit that comes along with it.
Yeah, man I love the 'coming up side' of gettin' high but for me, that 'coming down side' will destroy me. I may feel horribly about myself at this moment but I will feel MUCH more horrible if I succumb to an immediate, momentary pleasure.
The thing that sucks is that I KNOW ALL OF THIS but I STILL want to go to the city and do this. RIGHT NOW! (especially since my $860 paycheck hit)
We sure do like to mindfuck ourselves, don't we?
I guess I started having these thoughts in the middle of the week. I wanted to have some beers after work. I called my sponsor after I got done work and made the last 2 minutes of a meeting here in town.
I understand that I'll have thoughts of using. Believe me, I've had plenty of moments and plenty of thoughts. This has been different. I think bI know the source/trigger that inspires them. Very simply, i feel inadequate.
Anyway, my folks went out of town and I told them I'd keep an eye on their place and swing by sometime and mow their lawn.
Saturday night I swung by their pad, picked up the newspapers laying out front and popped into the kitchen. For some reason it was very important for me to locate where my diabetic dad keeps his syringes nowadays. I looked in a few of the kitchen cabinets that used to be where they were kept but didn't see them. I started to get a bit obsessive about it and tore through every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen.
I managed to restore myself to some sort of sanity, locked the doors and went home.
Yesterday, I cruised back over their place to mow the lawn. After the yard work was done I searched for those syringes again. I looked in the same exact fucking spots as I did the might before (as if they would magically appear overnight). I stopped myself before I became too obsessive about it. I knew if I went through their bedroom I would be placing myself deeper into old behaviors that I am trying very hard to break myself from.
I had $35 in my pocket that day and as I was looking for those spikes I developed a plan. $20 would go to a half gram of coke, $10 would go to a bag of dope and $5 would go towards some shitty beer or a nick of weed.
This is how $35 would REALLY play out for me though. Yeah I would spend it according to the outline above but that would be a shitty relapse. If I'm gonna go the fuck out, I'm gonna go out hard so... Monday would be the first paycheck from my new job. I'd hit the ATM, buy a six pack of good beer, drink a few on my way to the city, buy 5 grams of powder, two nickels of weed (just because) and a bundle of dope.
Shit, today I'm thinking that, since I now know where to score meth in town (yeah we learn some other shit in NA as well) I would LOVE to try shooting it since I never have.
Know what's stopping me from getting high these past few days? Yeah, I absolutely 100% WANT to get fucking high, I wanna escape and feel falsely good about myself but I really don't want all the other shit that comes along with it.
Yeah, man I love the 'coming up side' of gettin' high but for me, that 'coming down side' will destroy me. I may feel horribly about myself at this moment but I will feel MUCH more horrible if I succumb to an immediate, momentary pleasure.
The thing that sucks is that I KNOW ALL OF THIS but I STILL want to go to the city and do this. RIGHT NOW! (especially since my $860 paycheck hit)
We sure do like to mindfuck ourselves, don't we?
