SugarCoatedHigh
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2015
- Messages
- 9
This is my "Story" of a Roxy Habit to Addiction. I Have Never Shared Before...
Let's start in high school. I loved high school. I was well liked, and met my friend, good ol' weed. I smoked a few times a week. Senior year, maybe more like every other day, as our days wound down together and had sentimental blunts. Then, coming from one of the most affluent towns in America, all my friends went wherever they wanted, to college. My entire graduating class, went to college. The list of students staying in state, was minimal, and I was one. I hated college, I resented having to go to a "commuter school". For personal reasons, I moved in with my father and quickly started to have mental health issues. I now know, I had them prior, depression at 10, 11, 12, from the divorce. I saw many therapists but couldn't self assess as a child and didn't think of it until I was really struggling. I woke up, cried, drove to class crying, drove home crying, and went to bed crying. I wont go into detail about the depression, but let me tell you, it was a dark cloud in my soul that still lingers. At that point, I didn't understand it. I went on medication. It helped.
I met my boyfriend at age 20. He was 22. He was in the same position I was, living at home, I felt pure bliss, happiness, when I met him. His friends became my friends, we had a solid group of friends together of kids at home. My depression subsided. I couldn't believe what being in love could do to my soul. It was my first time in love. I hid the depression and anxiety, but for this period, it was subsided. I turned 21. I got all As in college, but partied hard. "I'm missing out on what all my friends are doing", I thought, "This is what I'm suppose to do!" I drank a lot, gave up weed, but switched to cocaine (which I had done a few times in high school already). Quickly, our group was trying to get some very weekend. It wasn't hard. Lines in the basement, bumps at the bar, I was talkative, hyper, I loved the feeling and who I was. That was from age 21 to about 22. All of a sudden, I got sick of it. It made me quiet, antisocial, not feel good, not happy anymore. DONE. Iv'e touched it maybe twice since then, and hated it, I will never again. I stopped with ease. Just ordered drinks out and said no thank you, to a friend was offered. I could even hold a key to my friends nose for her, and feel no inclination to do it.
My drinking slowed down to just a few drinks out with friends on the weekend. I was past 21, so "mature" now. Plus, as I slowed down, I realized I didn't enjoy alcohol, it was more about being social, feeling outgoing, liking myself. Then, someone brought some tiny blue pills to my boyfriends basement. I watched this friend do some. I didn't want to, pass. Another day, another friend, nah, pass. This happened a few times until, ok, i'll try. Nervously, I did. "Eh, this is ok" I said. (I laughed out loud writing this right now) Passed again. Again. Again. Ok, i'll take one for the weekend since I don't really want to drink. This was perfect. I felt good, this time, I loved it. I could have 1 glass of wine, and have a great night, feeling like superwoman. This happened for a few months. Every morning after doing one from the night before, I would throw up and be so sick. I would throw up that next day, for 24 hours. I can still picture the black and white hexagonal tiles on that floor my face had so many times, slept on. "One a weekend (if we could even get some) wasn't so bad. How is this addictive? I don't NEED it, it's just fun. It's not dope." Well, months went by, I was still getting As in school, and one weekend, I remember it well, I bought 2 instead of 1. One for Saturday night, one for Sunday, to see if doing one the next day, would help me not get so sick. I did one Saturday night, went out, got sick, and did not wake up until the next morning, Monday. I still had that one. "I can't do this during the day. No, should save it for the weekend. Well.. I do have off today. Iv'e never done one during the day. Ok, what the hell!!" That day, I fell in love. That day, changed my life. I can still picture that feeling, what I did, where I stood, that whole day. I cleaned my car, I washed my car, I cleaned my room, did my homework, loved life. That was the first changed. I kept buying 2, one for the weekend, 1 for a weekday where I had a lot of stuff to get done. You know where the story is going..
Age 23, I graduate with a 3.75 (wanted that 3.8 but oh well). Finally, summer was here! I was still doing some on the weekends, and once in a while, on a weekday. That summer, I started to convince myself, it made sense to buy in bulk when I found a good price. I started buying 4, 5 maybe 6. And, I did 1 a day. "Look at this control I have. I can even stop, and be fine. I don't feel a thing. Maybe a tiny tiny bit tired. But, nothing a large iced coffee can't fix!" I told myself. Oh, and I stopped taking my mood alternator, this was better! This was my antidepressant. It worked even better! I could actually feel the happiness the second I blew it. This was my summer, buy in bulk, 1 a day. Summer ended, I found a job. My dream job! Starting salary, 50k for a 25 year old, who was last making $10 an hour. My first big pay check came in. I needed to celebrate. "I can't do them at work, but when I get home it's fine. Ok, maybe 1 in the morning for the day." Then, this happened for 4 months, doing 1 maybe every 3 days. I didn't throw up anymore thee next day. Rather, if I skipped few days, the second day, I wouldn't feel so hot. My productivity, was the best part. I wanted to get things done, and I did. I felt accomplished. I felt happy. I loved talking to the people around me, co- workers, friends, Starbucks worker, woman shopping next to me in the store. I was so friendly. I felt like the absolute BEST version of myself. The BEST version I have ever seen. What a lie I told myself, now that I see the best version of me, is really me. In reality, my boyfriend and I would argue when we did them. We both were so agitated with each other over every little thing. We spend all of our time, driving around, picking up money, dropping off, all of our time together in a car. I started to fall out of love. No romance, he had no money, he would rather make $60 by selling a few then take a walk in the park with me. I resented him. Until, I realized he was struggling even more than me. I, in someways, was keeping my life together (education, job, money) and he was lost. This continued...
The next summer, 2 a day. 6 months later, sometimes 3. I ended up doing about 90 mg a day, every day. I first told myself, I knew people who were a lot worse. I would work out in the morning, get a coffee, go to the store, see friends, visit my grandfather... I had off, and I was addicted to packing my day full. What turned me around, was my bank account. My money for a down payment for a home, gone. Then, I give in. I see this is not ok by now. There is a problem and its getting worse. At first, I spent time crying, feeling depressed. How could I do this to myself? Let it go this much? I felt the depression that had been residing in me but masked all along. It made me want to do more. Then, a 4 day streak where I couldn't get any. I was OK. I lived. I was incredibly sick, but that 4th day, I was me. I lived through this, and felt like I had never seen myself stronger. Then, it became, hell or high water, I am getting myself out of this. I am finding myself again. I am not hiding my childhood, my depression, my dislike for myself, behind these. I am an educated, attractive adult woman and I am worth working on finding me again. My boyfriend broke down, admitted his faults. He was lost, he made mistakes, he needed to change. He wanted to buy me a ring for a few years, and couldn't. He wanted to buy my a house, and couldn't. He saw he was loosing me. So here I am.
I've been on track, off track. 5 day streak, some on the weekend. Another 5 day streak, 5 on the weekend. 2 weeks without! Subs to help. 2 in a week. A lot of back and forth but my mental clarity is the first thing I have discovered. I have to say, the time off, I am finding myself, seeing myself, getting repulsed by these things. How they make me feel. They aren't turning on me, I am turing on them! I have it in my mind and I know I can do this.
I will forever love opiates. Like a bad romance. When you break up with your boyfriend of 3 years, you may sleep with him a few more times, send him a few texts, cry over him, feel strong, get over it, and come out alive. I can't say I wont fall. Everyday without is a win. Every streak is a win. This summer, I am taking control. And, if I can't do it by myself, I have come to terms, I will need outside help. Right now, I am locating addiction/ depression therapists to start for weekly sessions. I have found a lot of tricks, for the physical, and the mental, that have helped me (I would love to post those for people to see too). Funny thing, with my major, one path I could have taken was "addiction therapy" so I have a few classes under my belt to have some knowledge. Need a certification, and maybe one day will really help people, when I can say, I am clean. What a gift I consider this life and how strong people like us are. Ive read these threads for years, and feel as if I already belong. I love to help people and feel the need to share my tips as they come, but first, I needed you to walk FACE FIRST into my spider web. One day, I will step back, and take in its beauty.
And, it is ok if no one reads this. It was my first post, but it took a lot of courage.
Everyone's "story" is a spider web: intricately woven with many pathways, hair-raising, delicate, horrifying, repetitive, and of course, unique. But when you take a step back, look at it in the dewey morning sunlight, it can be quite beautiful.-----I'm saying this because this is my story, my thoughts, and things that have worked for me. In no way, are two stories exactly similar. And, in no way will everything that has helped me, help you. My views you might not agree with. Further, this is my problem, I will struggle for a while, maybe forever, I will fall, but I will get back up. I am not perfect but I am working on myself and that is the best I can do right now.
Let's start in high school. I loved high school. I was well liked, and met my friend, good ol' weed. I smoked a few times a week. Senior year, maybe more like every other day, as our days wound down together and had sentimental blunts. Then, coming from one of the most affluent towns in America, all my friends went wherever they wanted, to college. My entire graduating class, went to college. The list of students staying in state, was minimal, and I was one. I hated college, I resented having to go to a "commuter school". For personal reasons, I moved in with my father and quickly started to have mental health issues. I now know, I had them prior, depression at 10, 11, 12, from the divorce. I saw many therapists but couldn't self assess as a child and didn't think of it until I was really struggling. I woke up, cried, drove to class crying, drove home crying, and went to bed crying. I wont go into detail about the depression, but let me tell you, it was a dark cloud in my soul that still lingers. At that point, I didn't understand it. I went on medication. It helped.
I met my boyfriend at age 20. He was 22. He was in the same position I was, living at home, I felt pure bliss, happiness, when I met him. His friends became my friends, we had a solid group of friends together of kids at home. My depression subsided. I couldn't believe what being in love could do to my soul. It was my first time in love. I hid the depression and anxiety, but for this period, it was subsided. I turned 21. I got all As in college, but partied hard. "I'm missing out on what all my friends are doing", I thought, "This is what I'm suppose to do!" I drank a lot, gave up weed, but switched to cocaine (which I had done a few times in high school already). Quickly, our group was trying to get some very weekend. It wasn't hard. Lines in the basement, bumps at the bar, I was talkative, hyper, I loved the feeling and who I was. That was from age 21 to about 22. All of a sudden, I got sick of it. It made me quiet, antisocial, not feel good, not happy anymore. DONE. Iv'e touched it maybe twice since then, and hated it, I will never again. I stopped with ease. Just ordered drinks out and said no thank you, to a friend was offered. I could even hold a key to my friends nose for her, and feel no inclination to do it.
My drinking slowed down to just a few drinks out with friends on the weekend. I was past 21, so "mature" now. Plus, as I slowed down, I realized I didn't enjoy alcohol, it was more about being social, feeling outgoing, liking myself. Then, someone brought some tiny blue pills to my boyfriends basement. I watched this friend do some. I didn't want to, pass. Another day, another friend, nah, pass. This happened a few times until, ok, i'll try. Nervously, I did. "Eh, this is ok" I said. (I laughed out loud writing this right now) Passed again. Again. Again. Ok, i'll take one for the weekend since I don't really want to drink. This was perfect. I felt good, this time, I loved it. I could have 1 glass of wine, and have a great night, feeling like superwoman. This happened for a few months. Every morning after doing one from the night before, I would throw up and be so sick. I would throw up that next day, for 24 hours. I can still picture the black and white hexagonal tiles on that floor my face had so many times, slept on. "One a weekend (if we could even get some) wasn't so bad. How is this addictive? I don't NEED it, it's just fun. It's not dope." Well, months went by, I was still getting As in school, and one weekend, I remember it well, I bought 2 instead of 1. One for Saturday night, one for Sunday, to see if doing one the next day, would help me not get so sick. I did one Saturday night, went out, got sick, and did not wake up until the next morning, Monday. I still had that one. "I can't do this during the day. No, should save it for the weekend. Well.. I do have off today. Iv'e never done one during the day. Ok, what the hell!!" That day, I fell in love. That day, changed my life. I can still picture that feeling, what I did, where I stood, that whole day. I cleaned my car, I washed my car, I cleaned my room, did my homework, loved life. That was the first changed. I kept buying 2, one for the weekend, 1 for a weekday where I had a lot of stuff to get done. You know where the story is going..
Age 23, I graduate with a 3.75 (wanted that 3.8 but oh well). Finally, summer was here! I was still doing some on the weekends, and once in a while, on a weekday. That summer, I started to convince myself, it made sense to buy in bulk when I found a good price. I started buying 4, 5 maybe 6. And, I did 1 a day. "Look at this control I have. I can even stop, and be fine. I don't feel a thing. Maybe a tiny tiny bit tired. But, nothing a large iced coffee can't fix!" I told myself. Oh, and I stopped taking my mood alternator, this was better! This was my antidepressant. It worked even better! I could actually feel the happiness the second I blew it. This was my summer, buy in bulk, 1 a day. Summer ended, I found a job. My dream job! Starting salary, 50k for a 25 year old, who was last making $10 an hour. My first big pay check came in. I needed to celebrate. "I can't do them at work, but when I get home it's fine. Ok, maybe 1 in the morning for the day." Then, this happened for 4 months, doing 1 maybe every 3 days. I didn't throw up anymore thee next day. Rather, if I skipped few days, the second day, I wouldn't feel so hot. My productivity, was the best part. I wanted to get things done, and I did. I felt accomplished. I felt happy. I loved talking to the people around me, co- workers, friends, Starbucks worker, woman shopping next to me in the store. I was so friendly. I felt like the absolute BEST version of myself. The BEST version I have ever seen. What a lie I told myself, now that I see the best version of me, is really me. In reality, my boyfriend and I would argue when we did them. We both were so agitated with each other over every little thing. We spend all of our time, driving around, picking up money, dropping off, all of our time together in a car. I started to fall out of love. No romance, he had no money, he would rather make $60 by selling a few then take a walk in the park with me. I resented him. Until, I realized he was struggling even more than me. I, in someways, was keeping my life together (education, job, money) and he was lost. This continued...
The next summer, 2 a day. 6 months later, sometimes 3. I ended up doing about 90 mg a day, every day. I first told myself, I knew people who were a lot worse. I would work out in the morning, get a coffee, go to the store, see friends, visit my grandfather... I had off, and I was addicted to packing my day full. What turned me around, was my bank account. My money for a down payment for a home, gone. Then, I give in. I see this is not ok by now. There is a problem and its getting worse. At first, I spent time crying, feeling depressed. How could I do this to myself? Let it go this much? I felt the depression that had been residing in me but masked all along. It made me want to do more. Then, a 4 day streak where I couldn't get any. I was OK. I lived. I was incredibly sick, but that 4th day, I was me. I lived through this, and felt like I had never seen myself stronger. Then, it became, hell or high water, I am getting myself out of this. I am finding myself again. I am not hiding my childhood, my depression, my dislike for myself, behind these. I am an educated, attractive adult woman and I am worth working on finding me again. My boyfriend broke down, admitted his faults. He was lost, he made mistakes, he needed to change. He wanted to buy me a ring for a few years, and couldn't. He wanted to buy my a house, and couldn't. He saw he was loosing me. So here I am.
I've been on track, off track. 5 day streak, some on the weekend. Another 5 day streak, 5 on the weekend. 2 weeks without! Subs to help. 2 in a week. A lot of back and forth but my mental clarity is the first thing I have discovered. I have to say, the time off, I am finding myself, seeing myself, getting repulsed by these things. How they make me feel. They aren't turning on me, I am turing on them! I have it in my mind and I know I can do this.
I will forever love opiates. Like a bad romance. When you break up with your boyfriend of 3 years, you may sleep with him a few more times, send him a few texts, cry over him, feel strong, get over it, and come out alive. I can't say I wont fall. Everyday without is a win. Every streak is a win. This summer, I am taking control. And, if I can't do it by myself, I have come to terms, I will need outside help. Right now, I am locating addiction/ depression therapists to start for weekly sessions. I have found a lot of tricks, for the physical, and the mental, that have helped me (I would love to post those for people to see too). Funny thing, with my major, one path I could have taken was "addiction therapy" so I have a few classes under my belt to have some knowledge. Need a certification, and maybe one day will really help people, when I can say, I am clean. What a gift I consider this life and how strong people like us are. Ive read these threads for years, and feel as if I already belong. I love to help people and feel the need to share my tips as they come, but first, I needed you to walk FACE FIRST into my spider web. One day, I will step back, and take in its beauty.
And, it is ok if no one reads this. It was my first post, but it took a lot of courage.
