Somedays are truly fucking terrible to be sober. I feel stupid complaining, you know, as in reality, my life looks pretty good right now. I'm going back to college in about two weeks, I've been clean over three moths, I have friends, and my family supports me. But sometimes I just can't help but look at what I don't have, and what I can never really see having.
For instance, I'm constantly conflicted about cleaning my act up in the first place. Had I not almost been snuffed out by a staff infection a few months ago, I might be on here writing about how I just shot the best heroin, or complaining that I don't have enough money to finance my cocaine habit. But I did spend a month in the hospital, and every day my mom came and visited me and made sure to let me know just how much I was fucking up not just my owne life, but hers as well.
In fact, there was one horrific incident that occurred during my time in the hospital that really laid the guilt on heavy. My parents had decided to clean out my room and closet of all drug paraphenelia, and whatever drugs remained in there. Believe me I protested this, because I wouldn't want my best of friends to really see what was in my room. Hundreds of syringes, pieces of aluminum foil, millions of dope and coke baggies, tissue paper smeared with blood, empty vials of research chemicals with little stickers exclaiming "not for human consumption!". It was really awful, and even worse thinking that anyone, let alone my parents should bear witness to such a scene.
But they insisted on it, and as I was stuck in a hospital bed with a pick line connecting me to an ever flowing stream of antibiotics and steroids, I was pretty much powerless to do anything. Anyway, my father, who's had substance abuse problems in the past, made it his mission to clean out my closet, and along the way found a little vial of powder, which could have either been phenazepam or 4-MEC. The way he tells the story, he wanted to make sure that it wasn't coke, so he dabbed his finger in the mystery powder and tasted it. Brilliant right? Well anyway, within the next hour or so he started having visual and audio hallucinations, and had to spend five hours in the psyche ward of the same hospital that I was residing in. Of course I felt really fucking awfull about the whole thing, yet since I wasn't able to leave the hospital I had no way to prove that I would turn my act around when I got out. I was just barraged with Constant guilt tripping.
Now I'm not a fool, and I know that I deserved all of that. Shit, I deserve much, MUCH, worse than that for some of the things I've done, the things I sold that cannot be bought back. And I've tried to be good since I got out of the hospital, fuck, I've stayed sober this long right? And my mother really does appreciate it. While other moms are proud because there 23 year old has landed a great job, or met a real nice partner, my moms thrilled because her son isn't shooting cocaine into his veins.
But the problem I have with being clean, the problem I've always had really, is that I'm not sure if I want it for myself. There are times that I am so great full to be sober and to not be the center of a black hole that sucks in everything I care about around me, but to be truthfull, most of the time I'm just thinking about when and how I will get high, and what drugs I'll use, how I'll use them, and how I'll cover my ass so that this time I'll get away with it. I even have these rediculous little monologues in my head where I go over the details of my favorite opioids, why heroins better than oxycodone, how fentanyl is shitty, what other stimulants will give me a bell ringer, it's maddening and it's really tiring as well. Sometimes I feel like fighting the urge to get high, makes me want to use, more than when I'm actively using!
Anyway, I don't mean to be a downer, I'm just real stressed out right now, and freaked out about going back to school. The one slogan I do like from 12 step programs is "a day at a time", though I find it more suitable for me to measure it more in seconds. For the time being Ill just go back to escaping my reality, by living my life vicariously through the character Jessy Pinkman from Breaking Bad. Fucking bad ass show, if you havnt seen it.
That's all for today
For instance, I'm constantly conflicted about cleaning my act up in the first place. Had I not almost been snuffed out by a staff infection a few months ago, I might be on here writing about how I just shot the best heroin, or complaining that I don't have enough money to finance my cocaine habit. But I did spend a month in the hospital, and every day my mom came and visited me and made sure to let me know just how much I was fucking up not just my owne life, but hers as well.
In fact, there was one horrific incident that occurred during my time in the hospital that really laid the guilt on heavy. My parents had decided to clean out my room and closet of all drug paraphenelia, and whatever drugs remained in there. Believe me I protested this, because I wouldn't want my best of friends to really see what was in my room. Hundreds of syringes, pieces of aluminum foil, millions of dope and coke baggies, tissue paper smeared with blood, empty vials of research chemicals with little stickers exclaiming "not for human consumption!". It was really awful, and even worse thinking that anyone, let alone my parents should bear witness to such a scene.
But they insisted on it, and as I was stuck in a hospital bed with a pick line connecting me to an ever flowing stream of antibiotics and steroids, I was pretty much powerless to do anything. Anyway, my father, who's had substance abuse problems in the past, made it his mission to clean out my closet, and along the way found a little vial of powder, which could have either been phenazepam or 4-MEC. The way he tells the story, he wanted to make sure that it wasn't coke, so he dabbed his finger in the mystery powder and tasted it. Brilliant right? Well anyway, within the next hour or so he started having visual and audio hallucinations, and had to spend five hours in the psyche ward of the same hospital that I was residing in. Of course I felt really fucking awfull about the whole thing, yet since I wasn't able to leave the hospital I had no way to prove that I would turn my act around when I got out. I was just barraged with Constant guilt tripping.
Now I'm not a fool, and I know that I deserved all of that. Shit, I deserve much, MUCH, worse than that for some of the things I've done, the things I sold that cannot be bought back. And I've tried to be good since I got out of the hospital, fuck, I've stayed sober this long right? And my mother really does appreciate it. While other moms are proud because there 23 year old has landed a great job, or met a real nice partner, my moms thrilled because her son isn't shooting cocaine into his veins.
But the problem I have with being clean, the problem I've always had really, is that I'm not sure if I want it for myself. There are times that I am so great full to be sober and to not be the center of a black hole that sucks in everything I care about around me, but to be truthfull, most of the time I'm just thinking about when and how I will get high, and what drugs I'll use, how I'll use them, and how I'll cover my ass so that this time I'll get away with it. I even have these rediculous little monologues in my head where I go over the details of my favorite opioids, why heroins better than oxycodone, how fentanyl is shitty, what other stimulants will give me a bell ringer, it's maddening and it's really tiring as well. Sometimes I feel like fighting the urge to get high, makes me want to use, more than when I'm actively using!
Anyway, I don't mean to be a downer, I'm just real stressed out right now, and freaked out about going back to school. The one slogan I do like from 12 step programs is "a day at a time", though I find it more suitable for me to measure it more in seconds. For the time being Ill just go back to escaping my reality, by living my life vicariously through the character Jessy Pinkman from Breaking Bad. Fucking bad ass show, if you havnt seen it.
That's all for today
