"Birds flying high you know how I feel / Sun in the sky you know how I feel / Breeze drifting on by you know how I feel.
It's a new dawn / It's a new day / It's a new life, for me / ...oOOoOo
And I'm feelin good."
12 days clean. 1 day at a time.
Nothing beats the original Nina Simone version but Muse is pretty damn close in my book. Today I am 12 days clean from opiates and those almost two weeks feel like it could have been easily over two months. Time just seems to slow down and at times come to a complete stop when you are feeling miserable. Today started out as one of those days as well. Days 10 and 11 I almost felt like I was regressing back into physical withdraw symptoms. Nothing serious just some hot/cold flashes, RLS, and some stomach issues. Still that seemed strange I had never experienced any of those symptoms coming back after they passed. It may have been some virus I was mistaking for w/d but I treated it anyways with just Loperamide(Imodium) and Tylenol PM and lots of sleep and hydration. To make matters worse during that probably day 9 or 10 I had a very tricky situation come up. While I was looking for my keys and run across one of those little round black film holders that I used to use to keep my stash in. I picked it up and instinctively shook it. I cringed a little and admittedly felt a lot of excitement when I heard the *clak clak clak* that indicated goodies were inside. I didnt even think about it before I popped it open and dumped the contents into my hand. 4 yellow perc 10/325's and 2 tiny blue Roxy 30's along with several blue xanax. Man that was a difficult thing to be staring me in the face. Luckily my brother is staying with me and was home so I snatch out the the blue footballs(I have admittedly been using benzos to help with the psychological aspects of withdrawl; hey nobody is perfect right?) and take the rest into the kitchen where he was sitting and plopped them down on the table in front of him. He is aware of my situation and has been a big help. He swiped them off the side of the table with one hand into the other and walked to the toilet and unceremoniously flushed them without even asking any questions. Man the pain when I heard that toilet flush. I am just glad he was there or I could easily see that have being a set back in my recovery. I am still very weak when it comes to these dammed things but I was proud of myself for being able to give them up after finding them since my brother was only 10 feet away from me.
During those bad days I had been trying to rewatch some movies. I started watching "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy to occupy my mind and found myself comparing the entire story with opiate addiction and withdraw. I mean maybe I would see it in everything with it being pretty much constantly at the forefront of my mind. But the whole thing with the way that the ring draws you to it and then basically enslaves you to it. The way the longer you possess the ring the harder it is to let it go. Just the general pain and suffering the ring would inevitably cause the one who carried the burden of holding onto it. I found myself wishing I could walk to some mythical "morder" and toss my addiction into the heart of the mountain and watch it burn away in the flames and be done with it. But alas, "One does not simply walk into Mordor."
So today day 12 I wake up and I am still not feeling great not to mention PAWS definitely in full effect. I despised the thought of even getting out of bed. Well at this point I am pretty much at my wits end with letting this thing kick me in the ass. I gave it its time to get out of my system and I cooperated with laying around resting drinking lots of fluids and generally feeling sorry for myself. I just made a decision that I was done with it. I popped a couple Imodium tabs and an Ibuprofen 800 and jumped in the shower. The shower is purely to slap some awareness in myself as I had just showered no more than four hours ago, and again no more than four hours before that. In fact in these past 10 days or so I have taken no less than 4-5 showers a day. It just feels good and is of the few pleasures available to someone in that state and if you have had those sweats you know that putrid smell. It is like no body odor you would experience normally except when secreting the poisons of a drug from your system. Most drugs have their own unique but poignant stink but they all have them when your body dispels them. So you want to rid yourself of it as often as possible. Anyways I get washed up and go through my typical morning ritual (this happens to be at about 6:30am) of brushing my teeth and getting "courtin clean" as my grandfather used to call it. I am not goin' courtin however so I throw on some ragged shorts and an old T-shirt, slap on my well worn running shoes and scoop up my iPod along with my keys and a small satchel on the way out the door.
Running just seems to be good for your soul. Not to discount all the good it does your body especially for a former junkie whos body is probably craving those endorphins(or whatever chemical or process they are crediting for that "runners high" these days.). The aggression of it seems to help to burn away the sting of any issues biting at your mind and if you run with music like I do; you seem to lose your self in the act itself and clear your mind fairly well. There is no excuse not to get outside and exercise in the state I live in either. For all of it's perceived(some legit others unfair stereotypes) shortcomings it is definitely beautiful here, in some places breathtakingly so. In the southern part of the state are some of the most amazing scenery you will see anywhere in the country. Some even say it is "Almost Heaven". Even in my part of the state which happens to be the "big" city. I jog the half mile to the boulevard that runs along the river to begin my trek and begin to get lost in my music and the view of the river and the mountains. I wave instinctively to passerby's of other runners and dog walkers(where I am from we dont look down and ignore each other when passing on the street) as they nod kindly or wave back in return but my mind is clear for the first time in a while. It feels great to escape from my own head even if only for a little while. I run/jog/walk/run again long enough that I went through an entire playlist of Sublime, OTEP, Johnny Cash, Muse, Foo Fighters, Tool, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, Nirvana and Eminem just to name a few(I have pretty broad tastes when it comes to music) that is a little over 90 minutes long. I look up and am just about to the Capitol building that is on almost the entirely other side of town from where I started. I pop into a gas station for a G2 and to catch my breath and rehydrate at the nearby bus stop awaiting my ride. I hop on the bus and take the public transportation up the hill that is about 3 miles that I was not about to attempt to run. I am not in that kind of shape and even if I was my body is still pretty depleted. I hope off at my stop grab a water from another gas station and jog on toward my destination.
The State Forest Park entrance is probably less than a half mile from here but I have a good mile and a half to get to the hiking trails that I am heading to. I have gone through my running playlist so I just switch it to all and shuffle it. I ran or at least jogged the whole way to the trails but after I got there I mostly walked or power walked at best through the nature of the trails. Taking in the beauty and the fresh air and the sun, especially the sun, it had been a while since I had taken time to appreciate its energizing warmth. I came to a clearing at the top of a small hill with one lone picnic table and a limited, but still gorgeous view of my surroundings. Nothing but mountains and trees as far as the mountains would allow me see. I took a seat on the picnic table and pulled out the satchel I had grabbed when leaving the house. I pulled from inside a little metal pill bottle opened it and dumped the two round white 2mg Clonazepam into my hand.(now some people at say some meeting may say that using any drug could be harmful to my path to sobriety. In my case though total sobriety is not really my main goal at this stage just breaking this hold that opiates had taken on my life. I will add that I do not use benzo's regularly but they are very helpful with the depression that opiate withdraw causes) I popped one and chased it down with my now lukewarm water and stuck the other under my tongue. Threw the metal container back into the satchel and pulled out my small glass piece already packed with some kush I had scored from a friend a few days earlier. I just sat there and sometimes laid flat across the top of the table on my back staring at the clouds taking the occasional hit from my piece.
At some point while I was sitting there alone toking and staring off into space listening to my music thinking about nothing in particular. That Nina Simone version of the song "Feelin' Good" that I quoted in the beginning of this story shuffled its way to the top. As it played I thought this moment in time could not have a better soundtrack. I just felt a little bit of peace for the first time in what felt like a long time. Nina almost spoke for me it seemed "And this old world is a new world / and a bold world / ...for me..!" I almost did not recognize the feeling. It had been so long or at least felt like it had been so long since I had experienced what I was experiencing right now. A good day. I was in fact "Feelin' Good".
It's a new dawn / It's a new day / It's a new life, for me / ...oOOoOo
And I'm feelin good."
12 days clean. 1 day at a time.
Nothing beats the original Nina Simone version but Muse is pretty damn close in my book. Today I am 12 days clean from opiates and those almost two weeks feel like it could have been easily over two months. Time just seems to slow down and at times come to a complete stop when you are feeling miserable. Today started out as one of those days as well. Days 10 and 11 I almost felt like I was regressing back into physical withdraw symptoms. Nothing serious just some hot/cold flashes, RLS, and some stomach issues. Still that seemed strange I had never experienced any of those symptoms coming back after they passed. It may have been some virus I was mistaking for w/d but I treated it anyways with just Loperamide(Imodium) and Tylenol PM and lots of sleep and hydration. To make matters worse during that probably day 9 or 10 I had a very tricky situation come up. While I was looking for my keys and run across one of those little round black film holders that I used to use to keep my stash in. I picked it up and instinctively shook it. I cringed a little and admittedly felt a lot of excitement when I heard the *clak clak clak* that indicated goodies were inside. I didnt even think about it before I popped it open and dumped the contents into my hand. 4 yellow perc 10/325's and 2 tiny blue Roxy 30's along with several blue xanax. Man that was a difficult thing to be staring me in the face. Luckily my brother is staying with me and was home so I snatch out the the blue footballs(I have admittedly been using benzos to help with the psychological aspects of withdrawl; hey nobody is perfect right?) and take the rest into the kitchen where he was sitting and plopped them down on the table in front of him. He is aware of my situation and has been a big help. He swiped them off the side of the table with one hand into the other and walked to the toilet and unceremoniously flushed them without even asking any questions. Man the pain when I heard that toilet flush. I am just glad he was there or I could easily see that have being a set back in my recovery. I am still very weak when it comes to these dammed things but I was proud of myself for being able to give them up after finding them since my brother was only 10 feet away from me.
During those bad days I had been trying to rewatch some movies. I started watching "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy to occupy my mind and found myself comparing the entire story with opiate addiction and withdraw. I mean maybe I would see it in everything with it being pretty much constantly at the forefront of my mind. But the whole thing with the way that the ring draws you to it and then basically enslaves you to it. The way the longer you possess the ring the harder it is to let it go. Just the general pain and suffering the ring would inevitably cause the one who carried the burden of holding onto it. I found myself wishing I could walk to some mythical "morder" and toss my addiction into the heart of the mountain and watch it burn away in the flames and be done with it. But alas, "One does not simply walk into Mordor."
So today day 12 I wake up and I am still not feeling great not to mention PAWS definitely in full effect. I despised the thought of even getting out of bed. Well at this point I am pretty much at my wits end with letting this thing kick me in the ass. I gave it its time to get out of my system and I cooperated with laying around resting drinking lots of fluids and generally feeling sorry for myself. I just made a decision that I was done with it. I popped a couple Imodium tabs and an Ibuprofen 800 and jumped in the shower. The shower is purely to slap some awareness in myself as I had just showered no more than four hours ago, and again no more than four hours before that. In fact in these past 10 days or so I have taken no less than 4-5 showers a day. It just feels good and is of the few pleasures available to someone in that state and if you have had those sweats you know that putrid smell. It is like no body odor you would experience normally except when secreting the poisons of a drug from your system. Most drugs have their own unique but poignant stink but they all have them when your body dispels them. So you want to rid yourself of it as often as possible. Anyways I get washed up and go through my typical morning ritual (this happens to be at about 6:30am) of brushing my teeth and getting "courtin clean" as my grandfather used to call it. I am not goin' courtin however so I throw on some ragged shorts and an old T-shirt, slap on my well worn running shoes and scoop up my iPod along with my keys and a small satchel on the way out the door.
Running just seems to be good for your soul. Not to discount all the good it does your body especially for a former junkie whos body is probably craving those endorphins(or whatever chemical or process they are crediting for that "runners high" these days.). The aggression of it seems to help to burn away the sting of any issues biting at your mind and if you run with music like I do; you seem to lose your self in the act itself and clear your mind fairly well. There is no excuse not to get outside and exercise in the state I live in either. For all of it's perceived(some legit others unfair stereotypes) shortcomings it is definitely beautiful here, in some places breathtakingly so. In the southern part of the state are some of the most amazing scenery you will see anywhere in the country. Some even say it is "Almost Heaven". Even in my part of the state which happens to be the "big" city. I jog the half mile to the boulevard that runs along the river to begin my trek and begin to get lost in my music and the view of the river and the mountains. I wave instinctively to passerby's of other runners and dog walkers(where I am from we dont look down and ignore each other when passing on the street) as they nod kindly or wave back in return but my mind is clear for the first time in a while. It feels great to escape from my own head even if only for a little while. I run/jog/walk/run again long enough that I went through an entire playlist of Sublime, OTEP, Johnny Cash, Muse, Foo Fighters, Tool, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, Nirvana and Eminem just to name a few(I have pretty broad tastes when it comes to music) that is a little over 90 minutes long. I look up and am just about to the Capitol building that is on almost the entirely other side of town from where I started. I pop into a gas station for a G2 and to catch my breath and rehydrate at the nearby bus stop awaiting my ride. I hop on the bus and take the public transportation up the hill that is about 3 miles that I was not about to attempt to run. I am not in that kind of shape and even if I was my body is still pretty depleted. I hope off at my stop grab a water from another gas station and jog on toward my destination.
The State Forest Park entrance is probably less than a half mile from here but I have a good mile and a half to get to the hiking trails that I am heading to. I have gone through my running playlist so I just switch it to all and shuffle it. I ran or at least jogged the whole way to the trails but after I got there I mostly walked or power walked at best through the nature of the trails. Taking in the beauty and the fresh air and the sun, especially the sun, it had been a while since I had taken time to appreciate its energizing warmth. I came to a clearing at the top of a small hill with one lone picnic table and a limited, but still gorgeous view of my surroundings. Nothing but mountains and trees as far as the mountains would allow me see. I took a seat on the picnic table and pulled out the satchel I had grabbed when leaving the house. I pulled from inside a little metal pill bottle opened it and dumped the two round white 2mg Clonazepam into my hand.(now some people at say some meeting may say that using any drug could be harmful to my path to sobriety. In my case though total sobriety is not really my main goal at this stage just breaking this hold that opiates had taken on my life. I will add that I do not use benzo's regularly but they are very helpful with the depression that opiate withdraw causes) I popped one and chased it down with my now lukewarm water and stuck the other under my tongue. Threw the metal container back into the satchel and pulled out my small glass piece already packed with some kush I had scored from a friend a few days earlier. I just sat there and sometimes laid flat across the top of the table on my back staring at the clouds taking the occasional hit from my piece.
At some point while I was sitting there alone toking and staring off into space listening to my music thinking about nothing in particular. That Nina Simone version of the song "Feelin' Good" that I quoted in the beginning of this story shuffled its way to the top. As it played I thought this moment in time could not have a better soundtrack. I just felt a little bit of peace for the first time in what felt like a long time. Nina almost spoke for me it seemed "And this old world is a new world / and a bold world / ...for me..!" I almost did not recognize the feeling. It had been so long or at least felt like it had been so long since I had experienced what I was experiencing right now. A good day. I was in fact "Feelin' Good".
