Well, I've really done it now. I was feeling mostly okay yesterday, and then out of nowhere someone messages me saying they just got "hooked up" and they have one to share with me. I could have taken it or left it (I was sick but not on my death bed anymore by any means), but being psychologically addicted as well, I went through the motions and took the hit.
Today, after 3 days of using again after being clean for a bit, I'm having nasty symptoms again. I'm furious with myself for continually shooting myself in the foot (and the arm.. hah!) and can't bear the thought of going through this forever. I know even when the withdrawals are gone, the emotional and physical pain I've put up with for so long are coming back in full force to incapacitate me once again and keep me from taking necessary steps forward. I feel like I'm stuck on a hampster wheel and the only thing that gives me satisfaction anymore is seeing that blood rush in to the barrel and the plunger slowly go down, down, down, carrying me into that elusive euphoria I crave so much.
I don't know what to do. I love that warm, fuzzy, euphoricfeeling so much but hate the feeling of being perpetually trapped and sick, a prisoner of my own frail and tired body. I want so much to be able to do it 'once in a while,' and not fall into this sick everyday ritual again, but I fear sometimes I'll never have a strong enough will to reach that point.
I just wanna tell you a true story about my first kick real quick.
This board and many therapists will usually be very sympathetic and understanding of things like relapses. They will justify it however they can, tell you not to be hard on yourself, and you wind up just going back out and getting high.
You come on this board and tell people you relapsed, and we are all sympathetic, we understand what you're going through, we tell you everything will be alright despite reality being that none of us are psychic.. things very well can get worse, MUCH worse than you could ever expected, 1000 times worse than things are now.
My brother (non addict) was very tolerant of my addiction because he knew I had good intent, I genuinely thought I wanted to be clean.
And he promised he'd be there to "help" me through it no matter what happened.
I started to get clean and the *first time I messed up, it was 2pm and I was in bed sick, missed school and work, told him "I had flu like symptoms" and would be better soon.
Violence is not something we advocate in our family, but violence helped me more than ANY shrink or ANY person on this board ever could.
I have NEVER heard some scream so loud in my life, crying as they're screaming, dragging me off my bed while smacking me in the face;
"You think I don't have problems?, you think I have it 'easy' cause I'm not you? You think I don't get anxious every single day of my life about something? Do you think I don't sometimes think about just ending everything?.." over and over nonstop smacking, screaming and punching me at one of my sickest moments ever.
A masters graduate, successful person, beautiful wife, my brother has everything in this world I could ever dream of. He also has an attitude like no other person I've met in my life, just one of the most positive happiest people I've ever known. To see him in that state really made me realize what I was doing to the people around me.
It stopped me from classifying myself with drugaddicts, and I started thinking "maybe there really isn't a whole hell of a lot too different about myself compared to normal people".
I will NEVER forget, as sick as I was, the lasting impact his reaction had on me. He left the room balling (a grown man) and I was lying on my bed with my eyebrows cringed, trying to anaylze what just happened. Trying to "think" about what just happened.
And my thoughts didn't do a SINGLE GOOD THING for me EVER. Not than, not before, not ever. Somehow, from some mysterious force of life, this extreme strength and courage transfered from him right into my heart. I felt empowered like I have never have in my life, after just getting my ass beat.
After that, there was NO MORE relapses (till recently) I got myself clean because I felt that "shift" inside of me. You NEED to find that shift somehow. I don't say this with anything but the most positive intent, but maybe a smack in the face could help you a lot.
Or maybe smacking yourself in the face. =]
It sounds dumb but sometimes you need to drop everything you think, everything you believe, and just start acting, just start LIVING. That will generate more strength to keep you going forward.
You really like the blood in the syringe? The rush in your head? All that shit?
Good.
Its inevitable at some point you're going to be laying in a hospital bed because of your addiction. Beauty long faded by the drugs, family long detached, friends gone, noone in this world but the person you came into this planet with, yourself.
Its YOU that is going to get you out of this shithole of a life.
Not bluelight, not your dealer, not NA, not some therapist. It is ALWAYS YOU, no matter how much or how little help you have to do it.
You don't need another 5-10 years of bullshit drug addicted philsophy in your own mind telling you its possible to be hooked on drugs for the rest of your life and be happy.
You don't need another single person telling you its possible. You need to open your eyes, & realize what awaits at the end of this path you are traveling, NOTHING.
I wish I could hold your hand through it, and tell you its gonna be alright, but 90% of getting clean is learning how to self sooth, so I'd be doing you a major disservice.
Please for the sake of those who love you, and those who pray for the clean you, get OFF drugs. You don't need that shit, noone does.
Take care
