Everyone's gotta start somewhere.

21. Crack and heroin addict. Doing my best. Clean since 1/9/19.

[trynatorecover]

I never saw a junkie when I looked at my husband, just like my mom never saw a junkie when she looked at me.

I saw a beautiful, hurting man. I saw the life he could have. I saw the house, and the two kids, and the five dogs we could have together. I saw the good job he could have, and the peace he could have. But I never saw a junkie...

I think that's why I get so confused. When he overdoses, I get confused. When he goes to jail, when other people tell me hes a junkie. I know he can stop using drugs, I did. He is no worse off than me. No addict is beyond repair.

I'm writing this because last night he asked me if he really deserves a good life, which amazes me. Of course he does, every addict does. Every addict has that person in their life that doesn't see a junkie.

[trynatorecover]

Sometimes I hate myself so much 

I want to douse my face in gasoline 

And light a match and let it burn. 

I want to claw my skin off with my bare hands

And stand there holding it 

All exposed muscle 

All blood. 

I study my features until my face morphs

And I am all nose 

And all yellow teeth 

And all ass. 

On those days I dont know how to remind myself

That I'm more than my most unattractive parts.

[trynatorecover]

Sometimes the world forces us to slow down.

I live in a perpetual state of doing,

Of moving.

Whenever I am forced to stop,

My mind goes

"An object at rest tends to stay at rest"

But I am so much more than an object.

I am a force.

I exude lightning bolts

And I will not stand still for long.

There is plenty of work to be done right here,

Right now.

There are mountains of my soul

I havent even touched yet.

[thepowerwithin]

Are you forcing yourself to do better or encouraging yourself? There's a difference.

[thepowerwithin]

I am filling myself up with love. Love for myself. Love for others. Love for the world around me. With this, I’ll grow. I’ll spread it everywhere I go.

Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin

[trynatorecover]

I am drowning

In who you think I am

And who I want to be

And who I am today.

I'm drowning in the expectations

And my own disappointment.

I'm drowning in my own mind.

I just

Need

A

Moment

[trynatorecover]

I spent 8 years lost in active addiction, from age 12 to age 20. If you want a story about miracles, I can tell you a story about miracles. 

On january 9th, 2019, I was supposed to check into my 9th treatment center. My mom drove me all the way there, an hour and a half away. I refused to check myself in, and made her drive me all the way home. I started going through the house to find stuff to pawn, and she took my car. I saw her driving down the street in it and ran out of the house, chasing after her and screaming. After I realized she wasnt going to stop, I turned around and went back inside. When I sat on the couch, exhausted mentally and physically, I finally surrendered. When she got back home, I told her I'd check myself in, and she drove me all the way back. I checked myself into rehab and actually stayed. Miracle number one.

On July 3rd 2019, I had decided to relapse, and picked up a bag of dope. I sat on the gas station bathroom floor staring at it, contemplating the 6 months I was about to give up, when the man who was with me stopped breathing immediately after doing his bag and hit the floor. I jumped into action and gave him cpr and called 911. The cops never found the bag I had, and for days I looked for it, on my bedroom floor, in my pockets. I dont know if I would've done it or gotten rid of it, but I never found it. Miracle number two.

At my one year celebration, an old timer turned to me and said, so, how'd you do it? & I said, I have no fucking idea. I still dont. I never planned on making it past day one, much less making it to day 416. I have money in my bank account today, my life is peaceful. I go to meetings, go to work, I meditate and do step work, and I hardly ever think about using. My life isn't a crisis today. Miracle number three. 

An addict, any addict, can stop using, lose the desire to use, and find a new way to live

[trynatorecover]

"Gods will for us is the ability to live with dignity, to love ourselves and others, to laugh, and to find great joy and beauty in our surroundings. Our most heartfelt longings and dreams for our lives are coming true. These priceless gifts are no longer beyond our reach. They are, in fact, the very essence of God's will for us."

[trynatorecover]

I see myself reflected back in the eyes of every person who walks into these rooms. 

I hear my own mouth, 

Every time you say 

"I'm lonely, 

I'm tired, 

I don't know if I can do this,

I dont know if i even want to do this". 

I sit and listen as people tell my own stories back to me. 

They speak of that first day on the job anxiety, 

And how their relationship isn't going right,

And how their parents dont trust them. 

They say they dont know if itll ever get better, 

And they dont know if they'll ever heal. 

When my mouth opens, 

I say, 

"It does get better. 

We do heal. 

The job gets easy,

The relationship gets fixed, 

The parents get proud.

In a year, 

You'll look back at this day and thank god you made it past it. 

I know I do, 

All the damn time." 

[trynatorecover]

I want to sit up here and say 

That I am all 

sugar and spice and everything nice

And you are all 

needle pokes and harsh words

But that's not true.

And I dont want to cheat both of us. 

It would be so easy to blame it on you

But you didn't get us here all on your own. 

I loved you less than I should have 

I was not as good for you as I could have been 

The truth is that you are carbon 

And I am oxygen 

And we're either really good for each other 

Or really, really bad. 

And the truth is that most of the time 

It's really, really bad. 

[trynatorecover]

I wake up from my sleep to a throbbing hand. 

Half awake, I see the nail marks dug into it. 

It takes me an hour to realize what I was dreaming about. 

I've been waiting seven months for you to come home. 

Seven months of, 

"You have one minute remaining for this call," 

And of, 

"I can only afford to put 100$ on your books this paycheck baby," 

And of, 

"I love you. I miss you. Let me call you back for five more minutes". 

In my dreams sometimes my worse nightmares come true. 

People change a lot in seven months. 

You come out, and you say, 

"I dont even know you" 

"You're not who you once were." 

You look at me like you would look at a stranger. 

I try to kiss you, and you push me away. 

I've never been the begging type, 

And even in my dreams, I'm still not.  

When theres an opportunity for me to get on my knees and cry for you, 

I always choose to turn around and walk away. 

The tables sure have turned. 

When you left, heroin had turned you docile, 

Made you feel less than. 

And watching you use and being clean had turned me angry, 

And made me feel better than. 

Now you're all about knowing your worth. 

And I'm all about knowing mine, but quietly. 

I thought I had to scream for you to hear me.

But you know, you've thought that too. 

[trynatorecover]

I remember what it was like to be the 14 year old falling in love with dying. 

I remember sitting in my room, 

On my parents shitty old Dell laptop, 

Scrolling through photos of girls 

Whose legs could pass for arms

And who could fit their entire hands around their wrists. 

I admired photos of cuts and stitches,

And pills, 

And girls far too sick for their own good. 

I read stories of girls sent to psych wards, 

Whose boyfriends tried to save them,

And whose parents cried over them. 

I wanted so badly to be one of them. 

Maybe I just dont know what love looks like,

If it doesn't come with a look of concern. 

Now I have little girls just like me, 

Reblogging my poems about my husband overdosing in front of me, 

Not once,

But three times over, 

And about my boyfriend dying alone in his bed,

Because I wasnt willing to watch him do the same thing. 

People love the poems 

About how I spent years looking for love in a pipe,

Or a needle, 

Or a pill, 

But ignore the poems about how it's been 13 months since I did a drug, 

19 months since I cut myself, 

2 years since I binged and purged, 

And a whole lot of mercy and grace in that time. 

Its like the success stories aren't as romantic as the dying stories. 

But I gotta tell ya, 

I'm sure in love with my life today. 

I'm in love with all 155 pounds of my body, 

And how it does yoga, 

And dances, 

And smiles all the damn time. 

I'm in love with living this life without a drug, 

Or a drink, 

Or any escape. 

I'm in love with not needing an escape. 

I'm in love with falling asleep next to my husband, 

And knowing tonight's not gonna be the last night I get to do that, 

And I'm in love with the way I'm in love with my life today.

[trynatorecover]

Theres great value in being the person that was there. 

After all this time, 

And all this shit, 

People wonder all the time why we're still trying to make it work. 

Even if they dont say it,

The question is written on their face. 

But who else could I find,

That stayed up with me all night, 

Just because I wanted to get high.

who else could I find,

Who was there for my first time working a real job,

And all the anxiety that goes along with it. 

No one else could ever hold me on all those sleepless nights. 

I dont have trouble sleeping anymore. 

And who else could he find,

That sat on his lap in their car, 

And told him 

"You can throw me off and go get high, 

Or you can sit here with me. 

But I'm not moving."

Who else could he find,

That gave him cpr, 

And threw away his syringes,

And drove around for hours avoiding the cops. 

Wouldn't it be selfish of me, 

After all of him loving me at my worst,

And all of me loving him at his,

To say "I'm better now, 

Now I dont need this"

Theres value in him always being there. 

Theres value in me still being here. 

[trynatorecover]

I'm alone in my own skin,

and you're alone in yours.

 we're reaching out,

but we're not connecting.

I tell you stories about my crazy husband, 

And the people I work with, 

And my minor annoyances. 

And you tell me stories about your boyfriend, 

And your friends, 

And all the ways you need to help them. 

When you try to tell me what to do,

I tell you I'm doing just fine,

And you raise an eyebrow like I must be lying. 

I'm slowly realizing that you're a fixer, 

And I'm not a person that needs to be fixed. 

I remember being that person, 

That wanted to solve everyone's problems, 

And always had advice for situations I'd never been in. 

Today, I find it easier to draw a solid line, 

And say "on that side is your shit,

And on this side is mine". 

For years I couldnt stand to look at myself, 

And had no idea how to solve my problems, 

But knew exactly how to solve yours. 

I've realized all my solutions for my problems are right at my fingertips. 

Every issue I'm facing can be solved by meditating, 

And listening to my own voice. 

I hope someday you find enough peace to realize, 

Other people's drama is no fun. 

Your own drama isn't even any fun. 

But until then, 

On that side is your shit,

And on this side is mine. 

[trynatorecover]

Incoming poetry dump of all the shit I've written lately that isn't very good

[thepowerwithin]

“The most troublesome situations often lead to the most astounding growth of your character. Don’t give up now; you can and you will get through this.”

— Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin

[trynatorecover]

Watching someone die is the hardest thing I've ever done. 

It's not always all at once. 

It's a bag at a time, 

A beer at a time. 

The next thing I know, 

it's coming home from work to him slumped over on the bathroom floor. 

Its waking up from a nap to his mother screaming. 

Its seeing purple lips, 

And a face slowly turning black, 

And that terrifying death rattle. 

It's slow at first, 

And then sudden. 

Its 20$ stolen from my car, 

And then a whole paycheck from my savings account. 

Its breaking his needle and getting him in the car before the cops come. 

Its watching him shoot up so that if he dies, I can save him. 

Its giving him cpr and splashing water on his face, 

Just for him to complain later that his chest hurts. 

Its him telling me, "I'm okay". 

It's me knowing hes not okay. 

It's holding him after bringing him back to life. 

Its loving him with all my broken heart can muster.