I know that Iâve done a lot of posts about this but I still feel the need to put stuff up about it because everyday is an opportunity for me to either keep on this journey of a new and healthier life or totally throw it away and sabotage myself.Â
over a year ago I made a change for the better. I quit all drugs and alcohol. While it 200% wasnât on my own, I had help from the state police, county jails, and the crisis management team at my local hospital, once I started to slowly withdraw from all the chemicals in my system, the choice became mine.Â
The day started off pretty normal. I woke up and had my coffee, sat on my fire escape stairs outside my bedroom window and smoked my morning cigarette and the half of one that I left next to the ashtray and then just like every morning in my active addiction I looked at my stash and cried. I cried because I knew I didnât have enough to get me through the day and I cried because I knew I didnât have enough money until at least the next day at the earliest. Immediately I did everything in sight and got dressed and went along my day.
 Within minutes Iâm half dead on the bathroom floor with my straightener in my hand because the drugs kicked in and then I come to and realize what just happened. I gather myself together and head to work.Â
Halfway through my shift the withdrawal starts. The shaking begins, the sweat starts running down my face and I get weaker with every box I lift on to the shelf. I quick run to the bathroom and shove any kind of pill that I had in my kit in my mouth just to get me through. My boy calls me and asks me if Iâll still meet him after work and I tell him Iâm too broke today and that hopefully Iâll get paid tomorrow. He still tells me to meet him at the spot and heâll âhook me upâ.Â
I get to the spot and his âhook upâ was me doing unspeakable things to these guys Iâve never met but any ounce of self worth or faith I had in myself was gone because I would never let myself get sick. I leave the house in a mess. Hair a mess, make up running down my face, clothes torn from fighting to leave early, and my dignity shattered like a broken bottle. None of that mattered because I had enough to get me through the next couple of days and thatâs all that I cared about at that point.
I go home and sleep off most of the pain and then 10pm rolls around, I use again but this time just a little more than I usually do. I put on my fancy little black dress and head out to the bar looking for someone to tell me I look good and make me feel pretty because all that I see in the mirror is a hollow, skeleton like figure. I stumble into the bar because my body is still trying to adjust to the small spike in my using. I say hi to all my friends at the bar and kiss my boyfriend and start slamming back drinks like a college girl on spring break.Â
We get into a relationship ending fight, I storm out of the bar, drunk as a sailor and high as a kite. He chases after me and tells me not to drive home, I tell him to go fuck off and that his love doesnât mean anything to me anymore. That was a lie. I needed his love like I needed my drugs. I needed him in my life like I needed food and water. I stared him down like we were the only ones in the alley like it was an old western movie. I reached into my purse, grabbed my keys and drove home. From that moment when my hands left the keys after I turned them in the ignition until the moment I woke up in jail I have no memory of what happened. I have a brief moment of clarity when the airbags deployed because my car went 65 into another car. That brief moment of clarity showed me my entire life before my eyes. Every fight, every laugh, every smile, every tear, and in that moment I knew I was dead.Â
Waking up in a jail cell is not glamorous or anything that you see on Orange is the New Black, that jail cell was colder than a freezer, smelled worse than a garbage dump on a humid summer day, and was smaller than I imagined. I wake up handcuffed and shackled because according to the reports I was violent and cocky and couldnât keep my hands to myself.Â
The blackout resumed and then I wake up on a stretcher in a hospital room with a collar around my neck and 2 different IV tubes in each of my arms. I was brought there after getting released from jail because I threatened to end my life again and was in such bad physical condition after the accident about 36 hours earlier that I couldnât move my legs and I lost consciousness twice.Â
After being cleared from the hospital with a broken kneecap, bruised lungs, burns, and blood coming from a 4 inch cut on the top of my head, I fell to my knees and checked into yet another rehab facility.Â
That rehab facility saved my life,again, even though I didnât want to be saved because my end goal everyday during my âmeditationâ time while having my cigarette was me planning my death. I feel blessed to have gotten a fourth chance at recovery and a fourth chance at life.Â
While I didnât like where the rehab took me, and what the consequences for my behavior were, I do feel blessed to have made it through to the other side and have learned to embrace my life as it is now in recovery.Â
While this post was long there is so much more to my life story in active addiction and now being clean from all substances for the last 18 plus months, I am now an open book.
 If you have questions about my life now or before getting clean or even during my using time, ask me. If you want to know how to get help for either yourself or a family member ask me. There are better ways to live than this constant battle between maintenance and overdose and maintenance and dopesick. No one should go through this addiction riddled society that we live in now alone.Â
Day or night, Sunday through Saturday, I will be here to answer your questions and do anything in my power to help you or a family member or a friend get the help that they need and the help that they deserve.
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
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