You’re only one fix, pill, drink, or line away from your next relapse. How to describe mine? It felt like coming home to my lover of 25 years. The good and the bad. The good thing about being under the influence is that I can say what I want without fear, whether it’s good or bad. Sober I’m awkward and shy. Sober I’m responsible. I fuckin hell better NOT stray to far away from THAT dirty word, responsibility. Cheryl at NA knows all about it, the relapse, not the details. It had to come out sooner or later I guess, because the second I decided to take that final commitment, self honesty, then it would get out to others as well. I’m not telling all the details, she knows I’ve relapsed on tramadol and when I finally realized that my back was against the wall, that there was no easy way out of stopping, even gradually without more suffering to come, I finally decided, ah fuck, to hell with it.
Being under the influence of Ecstasy was sweet. When I took my pill, it was incredible how very easy I heard myself telling 2 others, Mom and Aimee that I loved them. When a guy I’d had an affair with that broke my heart back in 5/01 came on line and saw me, I was overflowing with sweet poetic descriptions on how I felt about our affair. He wined, dined, 69ed, romanced and danced with me til the wee hours of the morning and I was in heaven. I wasn’t feeling the sting of when he had told me there will be no more romance between us, even once a year as I had hoped. I made my peace with that ages ago and besides if it weren’t for him, I’d never have gotten to see Dublin, Ireland, my life’s dream for so long. He’s an older gentlemen, a skilled, sweet lover, qualities that So Cali men have always been lacking.
I’m kind of like a guy in certain areas, like wanting to be independent, speaking up at some injustice done to others or myself, even settling for an apartment that was barely decorated, except for one room. Still, when it comes to romance, the wining, and dining, touching, holding, foreplay, afterplay, cuddling, I’ve always been and still am very much a woman. Qualities so hard to find in affairs these days, and since stoned or sober my entire life, finance, and romance, especially the latter have been 2 very painful areas of my life. So, when I heard the call from Alex Dangerous or Mr. Prick to call, I answered. I went to my favorite den, where I’ve felt welcome and wanted my entire life. They loved me if I was fat, thin, sober, or loaded. I gave them a $20 and 8 hrs later a tiny bit of Crystal Hyde, my true sis came out.
At first the straw, then Don offered the needle, asking me if I wanted to do it “the right way.” I felt like I won a ticket to Disneyland. I accepted. And again, as happens quite frequently, under the influence, I became too much Mrs. Nice Guy, because as the time it just seems like the fun thing to do. They went through major bullshit scoring for me, so I gave them money for smack. The surprise was Aimee made up a rig for me and I said, “Make it a small one!” “Don’t worry, we will,” she said. So she through me for a BIG loop when her “little hit” was for me anyway, “JIMINEY FUCKIN CHRISTMAS!” Dude that much would kill me or at least slow down my respirations to practically nil. “So if I did just that one little shot, does that count as a relapse?,” I asked in a smart ass way. “Haha, girlfriend,” said Aimee. We put our make up on and Don took pics of us.
She started cheering me on to write and get published. “Tell them you’re Quentin T’s sister,” she said. “What the hell could it hurt I reckon?” The guy is indifferent to me, so I wouldn’t be losing a dear friend. I loved the benefits of 100% sobriety, being responsible, getting to be a lot closer to Mom, and I’ll treasure that forever. What saddened me for those 2 years clean (except tramadol ok) was the lack of enthusiasm for writing and creativity. And now, I know full well, that Alex Dangerous, my husband has me on a very tight leash. The most practical solution for me right now is not to make any permanent decisions being loaded or sober forever, but to do what I did 7 years ago. The infamous schedule of 90 days clean, followed by one week of using to my heart’s content. Take off work, allow myself the ecstasy, get a shitload of writing done.
Sigh. Yes, I hear you. This is a very sad story of relapse, indeed. I will dose just enough to not get sick on the tramadol or take one or 2 painkillers with gravefriut juice and still try to gradually reduce, or who knows maybe just stay on a maintainaince dose for however long. Erik, my boy called me while writing this. That was a trip and a half. I know this: it feels so wonderful to have someone else understand my chemical, but deviant ways in this country. I hope one day it won’t be a crime to be an addict, only an illness. Still, some of you might know what I'm talking about when I say, damn it feels good to be home again. Schedule time is defo a must though so as not to get sucked right back into the sickness full force... Only time will tell.
Being under the influence of Ecstasy was sweet. When I took my pill, it was incredible how very easy I heard myself telling 2 others, Mom and Aimee that I loved them. When a guy I’d had an affair with that broke my heart back in 5/01 came on line and saw me, I was overflowing with sweet poetic descriptions on how I felt about our affair. He wined, dined, 69ed, romanced and danced with me til the wee hours of the morning and I was in heaven. I wasn’t feeling the sting of when he had told me there will be no more romance between us, even once a year as I had hoped. I made my peace with that ages ago and besides if it weren’t for him, I’d never have gotten to see Dublin, Ireland, my life’s dream for so long. He’s an older gentlemen, a skilled, sweet lover, qualities that So Cali men have always been lacking.
I’m kind of like a guy in certain areas, like wanting to be independent, speaking up at some injustice done to others or myself, even settling for an apartment that was barely decorated, except for one room. Still, when it comes to romance, the wining, and dining, touching, holding, foreplay, afterplay, cuddling, I’ve always been and still am very much a woman. Qualities so hard to find in affairs these days, and since stoned or sober my entire life, finance, and romance, especially the latter have been 2 very painful areas of my life. So, when I heard the call from Alex Dangerous or Mr. Prick to call, I answered. I went to my favorite den, where I’ve felt welcome and wanted my entire life. They loved me if I was fat, thin, sober, or loaded. I gave them a $20 and 8 hrs later a tiny bit of Crystal Hyde, my true sis came out.
At first the straw, then Don offered the needle, asking me if I wanted to do it “the right way.” I felt like I won a ticket to Disneyland. I accepted. And again, as happens quite frequently, under the influence, I became too much Mrs. Nice Guy, because as the time it just seems like the fun thing to do. They went through major bullshit scoring for me, so I gave them money for smack. The surprise was Aimee made up a rig for me and I said, “Make it a small one!” “Don’t worry, we will,” she said. So she through me for a BIG loop when her “little hit” was for me anyway, “JIMINEY FUCKIN CHRISTMAS!” Dude that much would kill me or at least slow down my respirations to practically nil. “So if I did just that one little shot, does that count as a relapse?,” I asked in a smart ass way. “Haha, girlfriend,” said Aimee. We put our make up on and Don took pics of us.
She started cheering me on to write and get published. “Tell them you’re Quentin T’s sister,” she said. “What the hell could it hurt I reckon?” The guy is indifferent to me, so I wouldn’t be losing a dear friend. I loved the benefits of 100% sobriety, being responsible, getting to be a lot closer to Mom, and I’ll treasure that forever. What saddened me for those 2 years clean (except tramadol ok) was the lack of enthusiasm for writing and creativity. And now, I know full well, that Alex Dangerous, my husband has me on a very tight leash. The most practical solution for me right now is not to make any permanent decisions being loaded or sober forever, but to do what I did 7 years ago. The infamous schedule of 90 days clean, followed by one week of using to my heart’s content. Take off work, allow myself the ecstasy, get a shitload of writing done.
Sigh. Yes, I hear you. This is a very sad story of relapse, indeed. I will dose just enough to not get sick on the tramadol or take one or 2 painkillers with gravefriut juice and still try to gradually reduce, or who knows maybe just stay on a maintainaince dose for however long. Erik, my boy called me while writing this. That was a trip and a half. I know this: it feels so wonderful to have someone else understand my chemical, but deviant ways in this country. I hope one day it won’t be a crime to be an addict, only an illness. Still, some of you might know what I'm talking about when I say, damn it feels good to be home again. Schedule time is defo a must though so as not to get sucked right back into the sickness full force... Only time will tell.
