It coursing through my system just gives me a constant buzz of energy flowing throughout my body and engulfs me like a big fluffy comforter but for my whole being.
I’m not anxious. I’m not upset with anyone or anything in life. I don’t need my feelings appeased.
I feel fine.
That home feeling you get when you are wrapped in your blankets just right, especially when you’ve out-snoozed your alarm and have precious moments left in your cocoon – that! that is it, I feel like that when meth is in my system. It isn’t getting high, though, getting high is euphoria and hyperactivity, racing heart and intense focus, mind-alteration and I have no desire for any of that. It is just that first hit when the chemicals mix into the bloodstream COMFORT I feel is what I crave.
But I’m not uncomfortable and not not comfortable nor ill at ease. I feel fine. I don’t feel up or down I feel
I’m not craving the rush, that just makes me feel sick anymore. I don’t want the high or enjoy the feeling if I even get much of one. I think I only continue the binge because I have it at that point but I cannot wait to be out of it. Now whenever I relapse I overdo each smoke so it makes me feel sick so maybe that will be a deterrent. Then it’s just headaches and regret. I feel empty and then I sleep. I hate using. The idea of using is stomach turning.
I don’t feel lacking of happiness or feeling any more than I always do on my medications.
I get the urge to pick up for…nothing I don’t want to and there is no benefit in using for me.
In my 20s I had an alcoholic phase of about 6 months where I would drink six tall cans a night during shows before/during bed. The mere idea of giving up alcohol made me break out in a cold sweat; I needed the intoxication it was my safety blanket and vacation from reality, the buzz, the drunk, the high part. I was insecure stressed overwhelmed, I had some excuses for what I was escaping from my thoughts, my anxiety, my unhappiness. I can understand my trouble quitting that habit because I wanted the effects still. Admittedly I just kinda walked away from ever drinking again when I started using meth and heroin I just lost any desire. Thankfully that has rolled over into an aversion to alcohol after kicking the drugs.
To quit pain pills I went chasing the dragon instead. Replaced not recovered from.
Heroin I cut back using when Alex and I first got together and he asked me to and after a while felt it was pointless to pay to nod off. I’d gone full blown meth addict I needed the fast life not the lolling floatation through oblivion.
I don’t want meth. I don’t want the high. I don’t want the repercussions.
Once I start getting natural energy back after my weeklong plus hibernation period after the previous relapse and the last of the battery acid is leaving my body I get a strong pull to pick up. I realize in the past 5 months I’ve created the habit of one week on three weeks off with occasional three dayers so it is somewhat just breaking a habit but I can do that I’ve been shopping as an alternative.
That pull is still there for why? No benefit, no desire, completely unwanted actually. So why do I want to relapse? I really don’t want to but I do.
Last time I relapsed I have no idea why the idea popped in my head. I didn’t want to get high. I didn’t want to use. I had a full out-loud discussion as I drove around town picking up necessities to pick up/use about not wanting to, not having a reason to, feeling happy and satisfied sober. I didn’t even have an argument for why I was continuing my pursuit and of what I was pursuing I was at a loss. I cried like a bitch when I accepted that I wasn’t going to wait a day, a fucking day! to relapse so I could take a clean UA that I needed for custody stuff with Hope, a fucking day. I felt like a fool, I was being a fool on a fool’s errand making foolish choices.
I took that first hit in the parking lot I met my guy in, it was urgent feeling and I still didn’t know what for. And I felt that buzz as the chemicals mingled with my bloodstream and that was it. I’d replaced what my body was apparently lacking. That home feeling, I have finally realized, is my body’s physical addiction to methamphetamine being fulfilled. I feel present, no not present, not mental but complete or whole, normal.
So now I figured out the what and the why of this seeming compulsion that I couldn’t mentally overcome: I’ve gone and gotten myself physically dependent on methamphetamine by continuing to relapse the past 5 months away. It is a different can of worms it seems because it is a driving force that I don’t have the correct weaponry to battle let alone overcome. Been here before and will get through it this time around too.
I’m struggling right now on sheer will and so thankful that Riley is over for the weekend so that takes away my ability to pick up.
Off to figure out putting the kibosh on cravings from physical dependence.
I feel like a shell of me, empty, or missing a component. Wonder if I’m not getting the flu after all.
self control is strength
right thought is mastery
calmness is power
peace be still