TheBlackCrayon
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2015
- Messages
- 9
On the 18 of Dec I began what would be my worst most intense detox to date. I'm a long time user of over 20 years and have only had more than a year clean once in all that time. Most other times I'd be months if not only weeks or days clean.
Dec of last year was tuff, and the months before that weren't any better. I would fly out to Atlanta about 8 months ago to try and get clean at a friend's...I live in Los Angeles. It didn't work out and I was kicked out for having smack mailed to get place. She took it personal because she's in recovery. I had to take the Greyhound to Texas after that. My buddy who was on Suboxone offered to help. Let's just say that didn't work out either and I spent 6 months using with him in San Antonio. Next stop El Paso at a cousins, with tons of Suboxone and no want or will to take them. I just wanted to come back to Cali. Which I finally made it to a few months ago.
It was all bad but Dec was by far just awful though. I hadn't been homeless since I was in my 20's, and only for a few months then. I found myself and my little dog on the street at 42 with nowhere to turn. The H in LA was getting old, was getting weak, and the people I used with disappearing. Long story short...I reached to my sister for help. She offered help right away. I took a Greyhound bus up north with only enough dope to get me there and decided to quit cold. I arrived on the 17 and on the 18th woke up in the mountains up north in a small house , far from any city with no car and no money. My sister dropped me off at her little house and left me there. It was the best thing she could've done for me. In the past every family member has budged when I've freaked out and asked for help. She did not, she stood her ground and stayed away, letting me kick cold turkey. I spent that first night just tired and slept as much as I could not wanting to wake for fear of the sickness. Next few days I rolled around in the bathroom in my own puke, crying and praying to the heavens for relief. I slowly climbed out of the bathroom each day only to pour water into my dogs bowl and lazy like dump dry dog food in his other bowl. Covered in vomit I'd crawl back into my lair breaking out of my own skin waiting for a rebirth of some sort. Day 5 I got some much needed relief. One of my sister's old tweaker drug friends drove two towns away to get me .2 of H, it did just enough to let me sleep and eat. Around day 7 I had no strength and was dangerously dehydrated. I forced myself to eat soup and drink water. Christmas came and went, I felt suicidal and alone. My little dog saved my life
. Fear of leaving him alone kept me going.
Just before New Year's my sister returned, it was like a knight in shining armor coming to my rescue. She helped me clean up, did my laundry and got me out of the house. We went to her lake house and got take out dinner...I barley ate but the company was much needed. The change of scenery was also nice. What came next was there return of the nightmare! A few weeks in I began getting weaker and couldn't sleep. I was not eating daily nor drinking water. The lack of sleep was the worst though, so tired but unable to sleep and so anxious I can't sit still. We went on a drive to pick up her daughter, and in town another of her old drug friends who still uses took mercy on me and have me a 8mg Suboxone... It held me for two days and I got some relief. Then back to withdrawal symptoms. A few days later my sister found another Suboxone. I then went about a week and a half with nothing and just felt awful. But just after 30 days her friend came through with 4 subs, then a few days later found 6 more. Those 10 subs have been a godsend for my recovery. They've helped me get sleep, which helps me recover and eat. I started with 8mg for a few days, skipped 2 days with nothing, dropped to 6mga few days and again took two days off. Now I'm down to 4mg this morning. I have 6mg left. Gonna skip another 2-3 days and drop to 2mg then use the rest as needed with as much time skipped as possible. What a long fucked up road it has been, but I'm happier and not on the street. My dog is ok and my sister is my hero.
I'm now living in a beautiful late house up in the mountains where it snows some days. I'm about to help my sister with my niece which I love so much. I pray this is there last time I have to do this! I'm tired... So tired of the drug game... It's all I know but I'm tired of it and afraid to go back. Wish me luck.
Dec of last year was tuff, and the months before that weren't any better. I would fly out to Atlanta about 8 months ago to try and get clean at a friend's...I live in Los Angeles. It didn't work out and I was kicked out for having smack mailed to get place. She took it personal because she's in recovery. I had to take the Greyhound to Texas after that. My buddy who was on Suboxone offered to help. Let's just say that didn't work out either and I spent 6 months using with him in San Antonio. Next stop El Paso at a cousins, with tons of Suboxone and no want or will to take them. I just wanted to come back to Cali. Which I finally made it to a few months ago.
It was all bad but Dec was by far just awful though. I hadn't been homeless since I was in my 20's, and only for a few months then. I found myself and my little dog on the street at 42 with nowhere to turn. The H in LA was getting old, was getting weak, and the people I used with disappearing. Long story short...I reached to my sister for help. She offered help right away. I took a Greyhound bus up north with only enough dope to get me there and decided to quit cold. I arrived on the 17 and on the 18th woke up in the mountains up north in a small house , far from any city with no car and no money. My sister dropped me off at her little house and left me there. It was the best thing she could've done for me. In the past every family member has budged when I've freaked out and asked for help. She did not, she stood her ground and stayed away, letting me kick cold turkey. I spent that first night just tired and slept as much as I could not wanting to wake for fear of the sickness. Next few days I rolled around in the bathroom in my own puke, crying and praying to the heavens for relief. I slowly climbed out of the bathroom each day only to pour water into my dogs bowl and lazy like dump dry dog food in his other bowl. Covered in vomit I'd crawl back into my lair breaking out of my own skin waiting for a rebirth of some sort. Day 5 I got some much needed relief. One of my sister's old tweaker drug friends drove two towns away to get me .2 of H, it did just enough to let me sleep and eat. Around day 7 I had no strength and was dangerously dehydrated. I forced myself to eat soup and drink water. Christmas came and went, I felt suicidal and alone. My little dog saved my life
. Fear of leaving him alone kept me going. Just before New Year's my sister returned, it was like a knight in shining armor coming to my rescue. She helped me clean up, did my laundry and got me out of the house. We went to her lake house and got take out dinner...I barley ate but the company was much needed. The change of scenery was also nice. What came next was there return of the nightmare! A few weeks in I began getting weaker and couldn't sleep. I was not eating daily nor drinking water. The lack of sleep was the worst though, so tired but unable to sleep and so anxious I can't sit still. We went on a drive to pick up her daughter, and in town another of her old drug friends who still uses took mercy on me and have me a 8mg Suboxone... It held me for two days and I got some relief. Then back to withdrawal symptoms. A few days later my sister found another Suboxone. I then went about a week and a half with nothing and just felt awful. But just after 30 days her friend came through with 4 subs, then a few days later found 6 more. Those 10 subs have been a godsend for my recovery. They've helped me get sleep, which helps me recover and eat. I started with 8mg for a few days, skipped 2 days with nothing, dropped to 6mga few days and again took two days off. Now I'm down to 4mg this morning. I have 6mg left. Gonna skip another 2-3 days and drop to 2mg then use the rest as needed with as much time skipped as possible. What a long fucked up road it has been, but I'm happier and not on the street. My dog is ok and my sister is my hero.
I'm now living in a beautiful late house up in the mountains where it snows some days. I'm about to help my sister with my niece which I love so much. I pray this is there last time I have to do this! I'm tired... So tired of the drug game... It's all I know but I'm tired of it and afraid to go back. Wish me luck.
