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What would you do if you found out the man you were falling in love with was cheating on you?
Now say you’ve got ample proof and he goes and gets a restraining order AND calls a bogus DV call against you when he was the one roughing you up?
When that fails to get him what he wants what happens when he commits you to the funny farm against your will and has been tediously setting up the scene for your imminent “need” of a seventy-two hour hold?
Now what would you do if he’d already aligned himself with the people already doing their own little twisting of the truth to take from you the only thing important in your life – your children – to make a point and control you?
Well bravo I already sound paranoid and a bit nutty don’t I? You wouldn’t believe me for a minute, would you? Aww, don’t worry neither would I.
But believe it or not I thought I was schizophrenic and bipolar like the good kind doctors who medicated me so heavily I couldn’t function enough to stay awake and see my kids for a few hours straight told me I was, diagnosed me even as such, and committed me to a psych ward for 30 days because … well I don’t know because I was fine at the hospital and completely lucid upon arrival at the good ol’ funny farm… I’d gotten high after my first sober experience to crazy town and my dad happened to come by my place when the warden was off on an impromptu trip to “visit family” <or maybe his other family at this point I wouldn’t put it past him> in another state and he didn’t like how I was acting at the restaurant so he took me to the hospital. I don’t blame him I was on uppers from the street and downers from the drug dealer with the phd. so I was not my best of selves. And he’d had Sir Gas-Lighter extraordinaire in his ear for a few months at that point after bringing me back home following the jail stintS he had put me in for making sure that the no contact order would carry over for a while and give him that extra bit of control over me in “our” home when he brought me back all the while making sure to just barely fill in my one remaining ally that was my father so that he knew just enough to not worry too much and to feel dude was taking amazing care and time and attention in my health and well being.
LET ME BE CLEAR: WOMEN CAN AND DO ABUSE MEN IN MANY INSTANCES A MAN SHOULD CALL THE POLICE IF HE IS BEING ABUSED AND VERY FEW MEN DO BECAUSE IT ISN’T THE MANLIEST THING TO DO BUT WOMEN CAN BE VISCOUS AND HURTFUL PHYSICALLY TO A MAN ESPECIALLY WHEN ENRAGED WITH A BIT OF INTOXICATION TO BOLSTER THEIR RIGHTEOUSNESS. PLUS IF A MAN DEFENDS HIMSELF AGAINST A PHYSICALLY VIOLENT WOMAN HE IS LIKELY TO WIND UP GOING TO JAIL SHOULD THE POLICE BE CALLED SO CALLING THE POLICE AND SHUTTING THAT SHIT DOWN WITHOUT WINDING UP BEHIND BARS IS HIS BEST BET FOR SELF PRESERVATION AND SOMETIMES GENUINELY NEEDED FOR HIS SAFETY.
HOWEVER IN THIS CASE:
My guy had repeatedly choked me up against the wall when he was infuriated with me with no provocation of any physical nature on my part (yes I was likely running my mouth on one or two of these occasions but just because I’m a better debater than he is *which he recently admitted as to part of his reasoning for violence being to shut me up* but on one I vividly remember it was because he thought I was going through his stuff and I not only wasn’t I but turns out he had a females number in his pocket and so his ass was on high alert and he woke up tripping because I was sitting on the floor) and the day he called the police on me he had had a hotel receipt in his pocket and was walking around the apartment with it hanging out all obvious and such and when I snatched it as I walked by to take a look he didn’t grab it back (I’m 5’nada and 110lbs soaking wet so that would have been the easy choice for a man who out weighs and is taller than me) he tackled me and wrestled me for it (I’m a genius who when someone is trying to take something from me even if I don’t care if they have it *usually he does this with my phone which I couldn’t care less what he sees cause there is nothing to see besides me snooping his shit which I am pretty open about* I fight to keep it as though it is the last golden ticket and I’m a chocolate fiend. I don’t now but I did for a long while. Now I just let him have whatever he’s grabbing for, I am not a fan of physical pain (or emotional pain for that matter <derp de derp yes some people are and I used to be kind of>) and after the hellacious last few years I’ve had I abhor fear and being grossed out. So that wrestling match ended with me very very tired and him triumphant although I’d seen the damn receipt without proof he would deny it all the way to the .. . next motel? So we decided to go to our frequent hot spot the casino where he would disappear for hours at a time and act like he’d been gambling in the same spot that I had been past while he (I now have pieced together) frequented hookers either from the casino or down the road at the bus station where they also meander selling a good time with a positive finale. On this specific day (sometime ago in or around February 2017) we didn’t quite make it to the casino. He was exerting his dominance and I was fighting back and at one point I flicked him in the side of the head and he strong armed me and I bopped him on the nose (and yes flick and bop are exactly as they sound minor annoyances but not meant to cause pain or injury) so he pulled the car over for the second time and said he was calling the police. I’m guessing now that he was bluffing but I’d had enough of his dominance and I believed he was calling at the time so I jumped in the drivers seat *to make his point and fake the call he had to not be sitting right next to me* and backed up and flipped a u-turn and went home. Turns out the police did end up getting called because it started to snow when I drove away and he was infuriated with my taking his car so since the police would not do a darn thing about the car because I had been allowed to drive it for the year previous and therefore had not stolen anything he proceeded to press domestic violence charges against me and had his handy little restraining order prior to the date in question just waiting to use it in all it’s defaming glory because I was likely getting my kids back if he didn’t throw a wrench in the game and he didn’t want to have my kids full time living with us as that would not be conducive to his lifestyle and the one in which he wanted me as his toy for when he was bored.
It gets worst for me after that that day as I had nowhere to go and was a scared little mouse in a tiny little apartment with one way in and out and no idea what to do because at that point I checked and saw he HAD called 911 after I left and there they were pounding on the door… Never do this but a trick I learned on the mean streets of Tacompton is that if you put a large knife behind the door and wedged into the doorjamb you will create an unlockable lock on your door. I had done just that that day in hopes of what I do not know because it was not going to do me any good to be seeming to barricade myself and be dodging the officers direct orders to open up…. So with headphones not playing a darn bit of music but plugged in and pretending to be as my excuse for being late to hearing the door I removed said knife.
Now simultaneously the officers unlocked the door yet again (forgot to mention I had moronically relocked it after their first unlocking as though I merely must have forgotten to lock it and happened to notice right then… fear does not create logical thinking for me) and expecting resistance again pushed in. Butcher knife (go big or go home right?!) in hand jumping backward thus swinging my arm up and coming down to landing in a defensive attack kind of squat to balance myself did not do me any favors. I did redeem myself as wholly as I could by – before they could react and pull their weapons – chucking the knife to the side and away clearly in no way moving it toward them and then diving on the ground and putting my hands behind my back. The front and center policeman never did pull his weapon and he was a hefty piece of meat which is why I assumed the “arrest me!” position so quickly, his tackle would have resulted in broken bones I do believe. The taller and leaner officer behind him did eventually draw his gun and even aimed it where I had been because that was how slow he’d been to get it out. They carried me down the stairs kicking and screaming like a toddler because that is exactly what I felt like especially with cool guy shaking his head and making awful cruel comments as we passed him and our apartment manager (I had both sets of keys…). Dude was evilly smug and proud of himself and he’d baited me with that receipt and set me up right before my court date where I had all my ducks in a row and my ex didn’t and had again popped for drugs in his testing while she was in his “temporary custody” after he’d abducted my kids and set me up but that is for another day or at least another post since I’m in a sharing mood today.
Throughout this whole ordeal in which we have just begun I trusted Alex (dude, warden, my guy) with my life because he’d saved me from being on the streets any longer than the few weeks I’d been homeless and a wreck after Grayson (the ex and youngest daughter’s father) took my kids and didn’t return them after dinner after only just starting to come around following a hiatus from parenthood to start his new family of about 7 to 15 months sporadic visits amongst.
Yeah I’ll keep on a rambling so I will be quiet on any more ‘splaining to do for now.
🅸 🅳🅸🅳 🅷🅾🆆🅴🆅🅴🆁 🅵🅾🆁🅶🅴🆃 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🆃🅷🅸🆂 🅱🅴🅶🅰🅽 🅸🅽 🆁🅴🅵🅴🆁🅴🅽🅲🅴 🆃🅾 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🅸’🅼 🆂🆃🅸🅻🅻 🅳🅴🅰🅻🅸🅽🅶 🆆🅸🆃🅷 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅾🆄🅶🅷🆃 🆆🅰🆂 🅰🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻 🅰🆂 🆃🅷🅴 🅻🅸🅺🅴🆂 🅾🅵 🆃🅷🅴 🅻🅾🅲🅷 🅽🅴🆂🆂 🅼🅾🅽🆂🆃🅴🆁 🅰🅽🅳 🅱🅸🅶🅵🅾🅾🆃 : 🅰 🆂🅴🆁🅸🅰🅻 🅲🅷🅴🅰🆃🅴🆁, 🅰🅽 🅰🅳🅳🅸🅲🆃 🆃🅾 🅰🅳🅳🅸🅲🆃🅸🅾🅽, 🅰 🆂🅾🅲🅸🅾🅿🅰🆃🅷 🆆🅷🅾 🅸🆂 **🅽🅴🆆🆂 🅵🅻🅰🆂🅷** 🅿🆄🆉🆉🅻🅴 🅿🅸🅴🅲🅴🆂 🅷🅰🆅🅴 🅲🅾🅼🅴 🅱🅰🅲🅺 🆃🅾🅶🅴🆃🅷🅴🆁 🅵🆁🅾🅼 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🅸 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅸🆉🅴🅳 🅸🅽 🆃🅷🅴 🅱🅴🅶🅸🅽🅽🅸🅽🅶 🅱🅴🅵🅾🆁🅴 🅸 “🆆🅴🅽🆃 🅲🆁🅰🆉🆈” 🅴🆇🅰🅲🆃🅸🅽🅶 🅷🅸🆂 🆅🅴🅽🅶🅴🅰🅽🅲🅴 🅵🅾🆁 🅷🅸🆂 🅴🆇-🆆🅸🅵🅴’🆂 🅼🅸🆂🆃🆁🅴🅰🆃🅼🅴🅽🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🅷🆄🅼🅸🅻🅸🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 🅷🅴 🆂🆄🅵🅵🅴🆁🅴🅳 🅱🆈 🅷🅴🆁 🅸🅽🅳🅸🅵🅵🅴🆁🅴🅽🅲🅴 🆃🅾🆆🅰🆁🅳 🅷🅸🅼 🅾🅽 🅼🅴 🅰🅽🅳 🅴🆅🅴🅽 🆆🆁🅾🆃🅴 🅰🅱🅾🆄🆃 🅷🅾🆆 🅷🅴’🅳 🅳🅾 🅸🆃 🆃🅾 🅷🅴🆁 🅰🅽🅳 🅸🅽🆂🆃🅴🅰🅳 🅸’🅼 🅿🅰🆈🅸🅽🅶 🅵🅾🆁 🅷🅴🆁 <🅰🆂 🅰🆃🆃🆁🅸🅱🆄🆃🅴🅳 🅱🆈 🅷🅸🆂 🆂🅸🅲🅺 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🆆🅸🆂🆃🅴🅳 🅴🅽🆃🅸🆃🅻🅴🅳 🅼🅸🅽🅳> 🆂🅸🅽🆂 🅰🅽🅳 🅰 🅲🅷🅰🅼🅴🅻🅴🅾🅽 🆆🅷🅾 🆃🅾 🅴🆅🅴🆁🆈🅾🅽🅴 🅴🅻🆂🅴 (🅴🆅🅴🅽 🅷🅸🆂 🅴🆇-🆆🅸🅵🅴 🅽🅾🆆 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅸’🅼 🅷🅸🆂 🅿🆄🅽🅲🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅱🅰🅶) 🅸🆂 🅶🅸🆅🅸🅽🅶, 🅺🅸🅽🅳, 🅷🅴🅻🅿🅵🆄🅻, 🅿🅰🆁🆃 🅾🅵 🅰🅽🅳 🅸🆂 🆂🆄🆁🅴 🅰🆂 🅷🅴🅲🅺 🆃🅾 🅽🅾🆃 🅲🅾🅼🅿🅻🅰🅸🅽 🆃🅾🅾 🅼🆄🅲🅷 🅰🅱🅾🆄🆃 🅼🅴 🅱🆄🆃 🅹🆄🆂🆃 🅴🅽🅾🆄🅶🅷 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🆆🅷🅴🅽 🅸’🅼 🅱🆁🅾🆄🅶🅷🆃 🆄🅿 🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅸🆂 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅺🅽🅾🆆🅸🅽🅶 🆂🅰🅳 🅷🅴🅰🅳 🅽🅾🅳 🅱🆈 🅷🅸🆂 🅼🅰🅻🅴 🅰🅰 🅱🆁🅴🆃🅷🆁🅴🅽 🅰🅽🅳 🅴🆅🅴🅽 🆃🅷🅴 🅵🅴🅼🅰🅻🅴🆂 🅿🆁🅾🅱🅰🅱🅻🆈 🅽🅾🆆 – 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅸🆂 🅸🅵 🅷🅴 🅴🆅🅴🅽 🅲🅻🅰🅸🅼🆂 🆃🅾 🅷🅰🆅🅴 🅰 🅶🅸🆁🅻🅵🆁🅸🅴🅽🅳 🅾🆁 🆁🅾🅾🅼🅼🅰🆃🅴 🅾🆁 🅺🅽🅾🆆🅸🅽🅶 🅼🅴 🅰🆃 🅰🅻🅻 🅰🆃 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅿🅾🅸🅽🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅸🅼🅴. 🆆🅷🅴🅽 🅸 🆆🅰🆂 🅼🅴🅳🅸🅲🅰🆃🅴🅳 🅷🅴 🆃🆁🅰🅸🅿🆂🅴🅳 🅼🅴 🅰🆁🅾🆄🅽🅳 🅷🅸🆂 🅻🅸🆃🆃🅻🅴 🆃🆁🅾🅿🅷🆈/🅰🅲🅲🅾🅼🅿🅻🅸🆂🅷🅼🅴🅽🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🅸 🅲🅾🆄🅻🅳🅽’🆃 🆃🅴🅻🅻 🆈🅾🆄 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🆂🆃🅾🆁🅸🅴🆂 🅿🅴🅾🅿🅻🅴 🆃🅷🅸🅽🅺 🅾🅵 🅼🅴 🅱🅴🅲🅰🆄🆂🅴 🅱🅴🆃🆆🅴🅴🅽 🅷🅸🅼 🅰🅽🅳 🅼🆈 🅴🆇 🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅸🆂 🅰 🅽🅾🆅🅴🅻 🅾🆄🆃 🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅾🅵 🆂🆃🅾🆁🅸🅴🆂 🅸 🅷🅰🆅🅴 🆈🅴🆃 🆃🅾 🅷🅴🅰🆁 🆃🅷🅴 🅼🅰🅹🅾🆁🅸🆃🆈 🅾🅵 🅱🆄🆃 🅽🅾🅽🅴 🅾🅵 🆆🅷🅸🅲🅷 🅷🅾🅻🅳 🅰 🅻🅸🅲🅺 🅾🅵 🆃🆁🆄🆃🅷 🅱🅴🅲🅰🆄🆂🅴 🆃🅷🅴🆈 🅳🅾🅽’🆃 🅷🅰🆅🅴 🅰🅽🆈 🅸🅳🅴🅰 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🅸’🆅🅴 🅱🅴🅴🅽 🆄🅿 🆃🅾. 🅳🆄🅳🅴 🅴🅽🅳🅴🅳 🆄🅿 🅲🅷🅴🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶 🅾🅽 🅼🅴 🅰🅽🅳 🆆🅷🅸🅻🅴 🅼🅴🅳🅸🅲🅰🆃🅴🅳 🅷🅴🅰🆅🅸🅻🆈 🅰🅽🅳 🆁🅰🆁🅴🅻🆈 🅶🅴🆃🆃🅸🅽🅶 🅾🆄🆃 🅾🅵 🅱🅴🅳 🆃🅾 🅿🅴🅴 🅸 🅼🅰🅽🅰🅶🅴🅳 🆃🅾 🅵🅸🅽🅳 🅾🆄🆃 🅷🅴 🆆🅰🆂 🅳🅾🅸🅽🅶 🆂🅾 🅰🅽🅳 🅼🆈 🅶🆄🆃 🅵🅴🅴🅻🅸🅽🅶 🅵🅾🆁🅲🅴🅳 🅼🅴 🆃🅾 🅰🅲🆃🆄🅰🅻🅻🆈 🅿🆄🅻🅻 🅼🆈🆂🅴🅻🅵 🅾🆄🆃 🅾🅵 🆃🅷🅴 🅶🆁🅾🅶🅶🆈 🅻🅰 🅻🅰 🅻🅰🅽🅳 🅾🅵 🅽🆄🅼🅱🅽🅴🆂🆂 🅸’🅳 🅱🅴🅲🅾🅼🅴 🅰🅲🅲🆄🆂🆃🅾🅼🅴🅳 🆃🅾. 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅴🅽 🅸 🆂🆃🅾🅿🅿🅴🅳 🆃🅷🅾🆂🅴 🅳🅰🅼🅽🅴🅳 🅼🅴🅳🆂 🅱🅴🅲🅰🆄🆂🅴 🅴🆅🅴🆁🆈🆃🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅲🅰🅼🅴 🅵🅻🅾🅾🅳🅸🅽🅶 🅱🅰🅲🅺 – 🅼🆈 🅼🅴🅼🅾🆁🅸🅴🆂, 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅸🆃🆈, 🅻🅸🅵🅴 🅾🆄🆃🆂🅸🅳🅴 🆃🅷🅴 🅽🆄🅼🅱🅽🅴🆂🆂 🆆🅰🆂 🆂🅲🅰🆁🆈 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅾🅾 🅱🆁🅸🅶🅷🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅾🅾 🅼🆄🅲🅷 🅱🆄🆃 🅸🆃 🆆🅰🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻 🅰🅽🅳 🅸 🅵🅴🅻🆃 🅸🆃 …🅰 🅱🅸🆃 🆃🅾🅾 🅸🅽🆃🅴🅽🆂🅴🅻🆈 🆃🅾 🆃🅴🅻🅻 🆃🅷🅴 🆃🆁🆄🆃🅷 🆂🅾 🅸 🅷🅾🅿🅿🅴🅳 🅱🅰🅲🅺 🅾🅽 🆃🅷🅴 🆂🅴🅻🅵 🅼🅴🅳🅸🅲🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶 🆃🆁🅰🅸🅽 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅸🆂 🆆🅷🅴🅽 🅸 🆂🆃🅰🆁🆃🅴🅳 🆃🅷🅸🆂 🅱🅻🅾🅶 🆂🅾 🆈🅾🆄 🅲🅰🅽 🆂🅴🅴 🅿🆁🅴🆅🅸🅾🆄🆂 🅿🅾🆂🆃🆂 🅾🅽 🅼🆈 🅰🆃🆃🅴🅼🅿🆃🆂 🅰🆃 🆀🆄🅸🆃🆃🅸🅽🅶 🆂🅾🅼🅴🆃🅷🅸🅽🅶 🅸 🅷🅰🅳 🅽🅾 🅳🅴🆂🅸🆁🅴 🆃🅾 🆀🆄🅸🆃 🅰🅽🅳 🅳🅸🅳🅽’🆃 🆄🆂🅴 🆁🅴🅶🆄🅻🅰🆁🅻🆈 🅰🅽🅳 🆆🅰🆂🅽’🆃 🅰🅵🅵🅴🅲🆃🅸🅽🅶 🅼🆈 🅻🅸🅵🅴 🅱🅴🆂🅸🅳🅴🆂 🆃🅷🅴 🅲🆁🅰🅿 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅸 🅷🅰🅳 🆃🅾 🅿🆁🅾🆅🅸🅳🅴 🅵🆁🅾🅼 🆃🅷🅴 🆂🅷🅸🆃🆂🅷🅾🆆 🅾🅵 🅱🅴🅵🅾🆁🅴. 🅸’🅼 🅶🅾🅸🅽🅶 🅸🅽 🅲🅸🆁🅲🅻🅴🆂 🅰🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅰🆃 🅸🆂 🅾🅺🅰🆈 🆃🅾🅳🅰🆈 🅱🅴🅲🅰🆄🆂🅴 🅸 🅰🅼 🅸🅽 🅰 🅲🅸🆁🅲🆄🅸🆃🅾🆄🆂 🆃🆈🅿🅴 🅾🅵 🅼🅾🅾🅳.
𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕀 𝕕𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 : 𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪. 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕃𝕪 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕕𝕠 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕞𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪. ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖?
Saturday, June 8, 2019
Today’s Gift from Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation is:
Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. — Rachel Carson
Beauty is everywhere. It is in the daisies, in the lavender wildflowers, in the new green grass of spring. As we walk through life, noticing such beauty strengthens us. It reminds us of the spiritual creative force alive in this world. On better days, we can feel our own creativity gaining power from such beauty. On harder days, nature’s sunset can help us step out of our suffering for a moment to be comforted and inspired by its splendor.
Even storms, in their wild and angry way, show us a power greater than ourselves. Such awesome beauty is beyond our understanding, and yet it is part of the earth we live on.
What lessons will nature teach me today?
clean.dopefiend: I needed to be reminded that 1. I’m not alone and
2. continuing to try again and again is the making of success. I know I’ll get there, I wish I wasn’t making it so hard on myself. and 3. finding the beauty in life is a positive step toward healing.
Today I will take my daughter out to walk in the rain and appreciate the purity and beauty of the earth being washed anew. We will intentionally seek out three positive takeaways from the experience that we wouldn’t and likely couldn’t have learned if we’d stayed inside.
My boost in energy the past few days, which I think was due to my wonky work schedule, has come an end.
At work today I heard an awesome song that has so many great lines. I feel like she’s telling my story and my change in attitude from constantly worrying about what other people thought of me to admitting my worst character defects and shortcomings and mistakes publicly without any worry of judgement because it makes no difference in my life anymore. I love me the entire enchilada, unattractive qualities and all (although I am willing to work on them for the betterment of my happiness in life). I love that I am finding really phenomenal writing about the situations and feelings I have experienced throughout my life; it helps give me perspective and is relieving to know I am not alone in my struggle. It is bittersweet and tugs at my heartstrings.
I’ve got bi-polar disorder
My shit’s not in order
I’m always late
I’ve got too many things to say
I rock mom jeans, cat earrings
Extrapolate my feelings
My family is dysfunctional
But we have a good time killing each other
They tell us from the time we’re young
To hide the things that we don’t like about ourselves
I know I’m not the only one who spent so long attempting to be someone else
Well I’m over it
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are)
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are)
I can’t think straight, I’m so gay
Sometimes I cry a whole day
I care a lot, use an analog clock
And never know when to stop
And I’m passive, aggressive
I’m scared of the dark and the dentist
I love my butt and won’t shut up
And I never really grew up
They tell us from the time we’re young
To hide the things that we don’t like about ourselves
I know I’m not the only one who spent so long attempting to be someone else
Well I’m over it
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are)
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are)
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are), secrets are
I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are (secrets are), secrets are
Until just recently I hadn’t heard that saying to “feel your feels [feelings]” and I overheard my daughter, Riley, telling her boyfriend that she understood that that was what he was doing and my amazing 12 year old empowered her counterpart to do so however he needed and she would be there for him. My girl is showing empathy! There are a lot of other emotions and hormonal scatterbrain going on in her preteen years so for her to be learning and embracing the complexities of empathy is impressive. She was unaware of the word or action and we had a great discussion on it and her usage and my pride in her last night.
I would say I “struggle” with empathy but that is a lie I know how to be empathetic I would just rather cut the cord of bullshit and get down to the brass tact of the issue. I teach my kids empathy, I know it is important in being a good person to be empathetic, I often am empathetic to an extent but, what is the saying, those who can’t do, teach? Joking, joking. I just have no appetite for listening to someone knowingly lie to themselves to feel better in a situation where they were wrong and know it but are expecting support for their delusions. I’ll admit, some people are further down the rabbit hole of deluding themselves and may not realize when they are in the wrong, those who are the perpetual victim.
But, this is not about them, and that is the heart of the problem with my no nonsense approach to analyzing and/or “helping” in situations (when I’m asked to, I no longer just throw my two cents around except sometimes with coworkers), I’m not sensitive to the other person’s self-denial. I also don’t like to be bullshitted. I can and do bullshit my way around some situations in life that I don’t feel like dealing with but that doesn’t bring about resolution it just placates my ego. It is likely that more often than not I am making a true ass out of myself in talking circuitously instead of taking responsibility and people are just unwilling to call me out on it. So that is what I do for the betterment of everyone.
I would love (and hate in the moment as has been the case) if people would call me on my bullshit. One of my favorite people in the world is my dad and good, bad, or indifferent he has taught me the art of bullshitting; he is also the person I can trust to not play into my self-denial and will call me on the carpet every time. That I love! That I need! So that is also what I do, not always, I know when someone is not ready for self-actualization and don’t push it but I try to make it understood that we can be honest and have a real discussion, no judgement.
Empathy is about the other person, I know, and I am not being selfless as is needed to hone this interpersonal skill but I also know (ego! alert) I am making a positive difference. Yeah I can’t bullshit myself, my dad believes I am a sociopath and I tend to agree I have some tendencies leaning that direction, many people prefer to stay deluded and just be agreed with which is their right so long as they don’t ask my advice.
My aunt Demi is a beautiful, kindhearted train wreck. When we first got back into contact regularly a few months back she learned quickly and brutally that I wouldn’t cosign her bullshit. She still tries it with me and come to find out she doesn’t always see her fault (so she says) and I help her see, so see I’m helping. I’m cynical because I know that I know when I’m wrong even if I will steadfastly play the role of the victim. I do also forget that other people’s minds don’t work the same as mine, as mine doesn’t work the same as other people’s all the time.
My boyfriend has a buddy that will cosign ALL his bullshit and then write another check and it is sickening to witness. When he asked if it was okay that he was planning to ghost me after three years ol’ boy said with all he had done for me over that time it was perfectly understandable and he was the good person in the situation and always had been. Alex talks to him a lot less after I pointed it out because that is not a friend, that is an enabler.
I stayed in self-denial about my fault in losing my girls and still sometimes forget to remember my part. My dad kept me honest throughout though and let me hide in my bullshit only after I admitted my responsibility. That is love and true friendship to me.
So this is a bit of a character defect, or is it? I think it’s on the fence because my intentions are good in wanting to help someone get to the crutch of the issue but a bit selfish in not allowing them to decide when to process their own bullshit. Really if they ask I think it is my right to give my honest opinion but is it right?
I’ve only had a few truly devastating and traumatic situations in my life so I only know from those that I prefer tough love and brutal honesty to commiseration. I also don’t process all emotions. Until today I could not wrap my brain around anger, it just seemed nonsensical and counterproductive to a positive outcome but after reading the reasoning for a person’s experience of anger earlier I gained a bit of understanding as to why people get angry.
Always learning. I realize empathy can be used for sharing all different feelings and emotions through another person’s experience with them. I am just ranting about the enabling kind with a specific kind of people that I have run into a lot throughout life so it seems common and hopefully is relatable. It could also speak to the company I’ve always kept!
My character defects: bullshitting, lying, avoidance, selfishness, pride, ego, manipulation, self-aggrandizing, impatience,
I feel trapped.
It is like I know the right things to do but the wrong thing keeps pulling me back in.
I’ve been addicted to something since I was 15 and started smoking cigarettes and weed.
Then it was alcohol.
Then it was pain medication, prescribed (haha then not prescribed if I ran out).
Then it was a giant leap into heroin.
I beat all the other addictions.
I feel unmotivated.
The longest I’ve been sober is one year and one month in 18 years.
I was on fire!
I loved life clean.
Since I couldn’t handle my emotions I turned back to my old pal meth.
For years it had obliterated all pain for me.
It was accessible and I knew it would numb the madness.
I backslid on my medications, too.
I feel incomplete.
8 months of a back and forth game.
I’m ready for it to stop.
I’m working on it one day at a time, or hour, or moment.
But it’s calling my name.
It’s driving me insane.
I’m grieving my addiction as I fight to stay clean.
My addiction got me through the hardest parts of my life.
They are still ongoing and it’s difficult to face them.
I feel overwhelmed.
No one said it would be easy.
Actually everyone said it would be hard.
I’ve accepted my horrid mistake to start using again.
Finally, no more guilt or blame or anger or shame.
So that is helping.
I got through losing a job the day after getting clean.
I’m working a crazy schedule and I’m doing it!
I feel hopeful.
Working through my issues one step at a time.
pic by nali
I didn't get hired.
Got a new job.
It starts at 2:15 in the am.
Glad to have a job.
Sad that it is the worst shift.
It is difficult to stay sober. I have no energy and getting high I have an abundance of energy, while I’m high but the aftermath is so much sleep and being unmotivated. I’ve decided I need to give some spirituality a chance, say hi and thank you to God more often. I know it gave me a lot of energy and desire to do things the time I got clean and stayed clean for a year and a month. It was so easy then and I don’t get why it is so hard this time around. I think that making it through a month will bring about change in my motivation a bit as well as chatting with God. One can hope!
I’ve got lots of wisdom in how to stay sober and I’m not using the essentials. I need to go to meetings. I need to wake up and do some things productive; I did so today and I feel a bit better than yesterday. I need to be honest, this lying my way to graduating from treatment is starting to catch up with me. For now I’m taking it one day at a time. It is what I can and am doing right now. Staying clean for the minutes as they come. Staying up on my blog is something I want to get better about as I get out of this funk-if I get out of this funk, I never know if its withdrawals or my medications…or both is probably the case.
Happiness, motivation, and energy – that is all I want!
I’m way past my bedtime but struggling to sleep because I slept too much during the day. Go figure, when I need to sleep I can’t!! Haha. Such is life.
I grieve for my Madness Now it’s so calm and still Everything’s so dull compared to When I was ill…I Grieve For My Madness — Emma Scarr
I was diagnosed schizophrenic and bipolar 1, combined creating my diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder. I have used drugs to self medicate when I was not fully diagnosed and unable to continue getting the medications I had been on for years. The last time I got sober I had a few psychotic episodes that ended me up in a psychiatric ward for a couple weeks once and a months time the next. Then I got started on a hefty dose of medications. Emma’s poem puts into words perfectly what I’m struggling with staying on my medication and in sobriety. Life is different and my personality is very neutral, I lose my emotions and it takes enormous effort to feel for, toward, about anything. I’ve been told that maybe I should reduce my medications but they’re set to keep my symptoms at bay and less creates more symptoms. I honestly don’t mind most of them, enjoy some even, but I become misunderstood and too much for the people close to me. So I take my medications.
When I use I don’t take my medications. Methamphetamine calms the chaos and keeps me centered. It is like being on medication but still having energy, light, feelings, being.
I can’t and don’t want to keep using though so I have to figure out how to overcome the downer of being medicated in a healthy way. I’m still trying to figure that one out.
This poem describes a big part of my struggle.
Well, coming down, hard.
I decided to finish off the last of what I had cause I’m a sucker for punishment. It ended up going through Monday night. Then, to show me just how idiotic that was, I slept through my alarms Tuesday and missed work. So, yet another reason to not pick up again – I want this job and using is fucking that up. In order to function I either have to go back to regular, moderate using or quit, I can’t keep trying to play this binge and purge shit.
I WANT TO QUIT. SO I AM QUIT!
Tuesday I spent the day sleeping. Last night I didn’t take my medication so I wouldn’t sleep through my alarms again and so today I am not asleep per usual after stopping using and I am in an intense amount of pain. Everything hurts. I was sick to my stomach and dehydrated all day at work but made it through, barely. My ears hurt, my lips hurt, my throat, my head, my feet, my fingers everything is lacking fluids and swollen with a pins and needles feeling. I want to feel this so I can remember how not worth it it is to pick up again. Usually I’d just sleep through this part with my medications knocking me out and letting my body recuperate silently but I don’t want to do the week to two week knockout.
I will take my medications tonight but only half of my sleep med so I’m not down for the count and missing calling my girls tomorrow night. I want to get through this awake because I have plans with Riley and Hope this weekend and I’m not screwing it up because I fucked up and used AGAIN. I need to do better. So I will.
I’m too much of a wimp to keep suffering though, since I can kick the withdrawals by getting back on track with my medications, which I need to do anyway, I’m going to. Now actually.
I want to create a template of sorts for a daily check-in that I can use to give an update on my sobriety on the regular and either incorporate it into my focus that day or have it separate from my post as an aside… Any ideas? I’m going to start brainstorming.
Thanks for checking in on me! I wanted to give an update and my brain is pretty mushy so hang in there with me and I’ll get back to rockin’ and rollin’ in my sobriety as we take this adventure!
Last thing: I feel differently about my sobriety this time. I am thinking of so many reasons why I want it and feeling really positive and fulfilled when envisioning my quality of life sober for the long haul. I’m ready for some real change in my attitude and behavior to better myself and my life. I feel ready now. I feel empowered. I can and am doing this.
The time has come.
It’s for the best, I know it.
Lately, I have been planning (and failing to accomplish) small weekly goals and setting a task to achieve daily (blogging every day! I will get there) to feel myself progressing. While I have yet to reach any of my goals to their fulfillment making them has kept me motivated and constantly thinking creatively; the fact that I am continuing to pursue blogging is proof of that reserved determination. So, I figure, since I’m already so far ahead of the curve, I might as well get even more ambitious and set out a path – barebones rough outline to expand upon in time – to follow toward a my purpose. My logic is senseless and I do so enjoy it as such; it keeps my chaos a tad more organized.
What got me on the idea of sketching out an outline of my way from here to there, there being my intention, my plan, my best outcome, is the topic above being asked of us at treatment today. I got on a roll and it got me amped! I’m also all over the place in regards to my timeline’s synchronicity so that will balance out as our ideas mature along the journey. So here is the synopsis of what I set out to Get ‘er done! in the next 10 years. Remember! it is my first draft of my second first draft:
=_= first time in my life that I am setting long term goals and I’m writing them down 2x now! was scared of goals because they meant effort and the ability to fail. now i’m excited to keep on trying until I thrive. and not stop there. =_+
+In 1 month I get my court case dismissed after completing two years of probation so for the next thirty days no shenanigans for sure I want those charges disappeared!
+Over the next couple of months I’m going to be working my most workiest so that the company I’m temping for will hire me on full time (they’ve already brought it up as an idea – yeah they came to me so that rocked) or I’ll take part-time as an ACTUAL employee.
+Within 3 months I’d like to have earned 100 followers to this blog I be’s a writing AND get my car all up to snuff serviced to be on point for the next while.
**some ideas to get it so**
–oil and filter change
–replace spark plugs
–replace any other filters and replenish fluids
((ideas are welcome I know exactly ^that^ much about what I need to do to maintain my car))
+By my daughter’s 8th birthday in August, about 4 months away, I will have worked with an attorney to have gotten my visits on track with Hope. -hopefully it will be every other weekend by then-
+At 6 months I would like to have enough money saved up that I can feasibly put aside enough monthly to be in the position to live on my own. Not that I will but that I will be ABLE to.
+A year from now I plan to be petitioning the courts for more time with my daughters – an extra afterschool overnight per week or every other, I’m thinking.
+In 5 years time I will have both my girls full time again (as long as that is the choice they want still) and we’ll live in a one-story three bedroom home. The kids will share rooms with their respective sexes (if it’s still the 6 of us); the house will be big enough for comfort but cozy with affection. There is the likely possibility of a yard and one, or two, dogs. +Riley will be on her way out of the nest in just 6 years!+
+When I am 43 in TEN years I will have begun and succeeded in paying off my student loans and the credit card debt left to me from my exes. I will be debt free!
A few extras
I have more purpose.
“He who has a why to live for
can bear almost any how.”
8 days I have let lapse without an update anywhere.
My bad! Have faith I will get better the more sober I get.
I am still sober.
I feel like I’ve lost my creative thinking part of my brain. My brain feels a bit mushy the past week.
I almost picked up today. If it hadn’t been for overtime at work I might have. I’m struggling to feel awake and motivated. I do great at work but just in life outside of work I’m blah.
My boyfriend has been looking at porn chicks – not porn videos but the actual chicks and something about dating… 😦 – so I’m feeling not so awesome about my lack of ANY sex drive. I’m going to try my best to at least fake the funk and get intimate tonight. I still feel like he’s doing something treacherous and I’ve been sleeping while he’s been off doing whatever with his location turned off so I’m in the dark. Snooping only gets you so far when you’re trying to be as unsnoopy while snooping by just checking his accounts and not putting something on his phone to give me all the info. I’m trying to stay away from it all together but like quitting drugs its a process and I’m making good baby steps. I went all week without even checking ANYTHING so I wasn’t even doing that while I’ve been MIA!!
So I took a short interlude to chat with my Riley and my mister on the phone. Ri needed to do homework so it was a short and sweet conversation. Alex is sitting at the laundromat (he went after me which was weird but …. yeah) and we got to chatting about things. It came about that I felt sometimes that I am holding him back with my fucking up and still struggling with addiction self and that I feel selfish, sometimes, for not letting him go. Well I wasn’t looking for reassurance of him wanting to be with me, I was being honest and wanted to know his take. I no longer like that I did that. He feels that it would be healthier for us both if we split. DAMN IT! Let me be completely honest, I knew that was how he felt I just didn’t like the confirmation. We’ve been together three years and I want a lifetime with him but he’s been carrying me this entire time and I’ve just failed over and over. I suspect there may be someone else but that also might be me trying to make myself feel better that it isn’t ME when in fact it is me.
The last thing I can handle right now is a break up. I have no place to go and not enough money to live. I’d not be able to have Riley every weekend because I’d be living in my car… And I adore this man. Probably part of the issue is that I have always been more into him than he to me (except at the very beginning of this whirlwind) and I’ve not been shy about saying so or showing it. People need that intrigue factor and he’s kept up mine by being super evasive and never 100% committal. I feel like since he knew he had me he’s not wanted me but has been stuck with me. I’m a burden on him. And I still have to muster up some sexy-time desire tonight — fuck (no pun)!!
I feel like I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.
I know he won’t kick me out and he’ll keep pretending for me for now, okay I think this because it has apparently been what he has been doing but he did just get honest about that so FREAKING OUT. He does love me but I think not in an in love with and want to spend life with and more in a pitiful feeling sorry for me way.
Asked for clarification – I know how much more clear can he be – and he says that he wants to be with me but knows it’d be healthier if he pursued life as an individual to learn to be good with himself and grow that way. I call bullshit. He was doing just that when I met him and had been for a few years at least and he is very sure of himself. People can grow individually in a relationship and I said as much and he agreed and pretty much said he just needed to be able to do his alone time stuff without all the suspicion from me. He will sit in his car for hours and according to him listen to music and podcasts. I’ve done it with him and he fell asleep which he says is often the case. And he won’t stay parked in our parking area for our apartment he goes to Wal-Mart or various parking areas or he’ll say he’s eating at Subway right by this hotel and be there for over an hour. I’d think if he wanted to listen to his tunes or whatnot it would be just as feasible to do here and especially not in suspect places.
I’ve been worried he’s been picking up hookers since well he picked me up when I was one and his suspicious behavior since… always, I’m realizing this has been since we moved into our apartment in August 2016 after 3 months in hotels (where he was all about me and courting me and unsure of my feelings) that he gave me reason to question what he was doing. I do have to admit a lot of my “gut feelings” likely had to do with the methamphetamine coursing non-stop through my system for the first year but when I was sober before….then he got caught talking to another woman behind my back about admittedly inappropriate stuff….so maybe it was more reality cause it was him who made me feel like I was gone-crazy and that was why I had found stuff while snooping or heard things that I’d recorded. Okay stopping this rabbit hole that I’m starting to go down.
I’ll come back to that eventually but can’t handle too much reality and honesty right now.
Hopefully I will forget it and not concern myself with worrying over the patterns of behavior yet I should probably open my eyes a bit and quit pretending like he’s been so perfect and great to me. I love him, I do adore him, I just know that I’m no crazy person and the dots connect when I’m sober too.
So back to… oh right we had a conversation and he made it clear he hadn’t said he didn’t want to be with me now but the healthy aspect was a FACT. Oh well. I’m suddenly not so concerned with that. Other than believing that he has a person he is hiding in his life who is likely to be female more strongly, his statement is not news if I’m being honest with myself. Also he likes to throw around things like that when I’m starting to feel comfortable in our relationship and getting back on my feet. He did remind me that a couple years ago he was done but couldn’t just see me with nowhere to go and leave me like that. So there is that pity I was talking about.
Damn, I’m just continually getting off track now since I’m feeling emotionally flustered and upset. My bad!
He got me to shower with him.
We got freaky.
And then he admits to the porn, kinda. I can legit see what he’s looked at and watched and he’s holding back some important info. Like the teen aspect. Um not cool. He even thinks a story line about a guy faking out chicks with an acting gig to get a “porn star” to fuck on camera is something real rather than a planned and acted out set up… so teens? Does he believe they’re not 18 (which yes, I know they are) cause that would be gross. He had some story for why he looked up the porn to begin with and it sounded like bullshit too.
I’m wishing I had just stayed asleep and not opened my computer up today.
Life on life’s terms right?
And if I didn’t want to know what he’s actually up to I could just not look. Can’t really be upset when I don’t like what I see, as much as I wish I’d find something romantic planned for us I’m not an idiot, there is a reason I’m even taking the time to look.
Funny he has told me that “of course I will find something if I snoop” but that shouldn’t be the case. If he snooped my shit he’d find nothing that would make him wonder what I was doing.
Ai yai yai.
I really wanted to enjoy tonight but alas revelations have soured my stomach and made the amazing lovemaking we had shared tonight feel really hollow.
I want to slap myself and remind me that my focus needs to stay focused because this nonsense of his is what got me back on this path when I’d been doing so well to avoid the shit. I’m feeling the emotions this time and they’re uncomfortable and my brain won’t stop whirring with the worst scenarios.
Thanks for listening to me. I needed someone to just hear me, I think. I feel like I shutdown the roller coaster ride I started on pretty well and sharing it helped. So this blog may just do as I hoped in helping me to have an outlet to help me stay sober through stressful stuff and just life while feeling and figuring out my emotions.
I almost want to save this as a draft and retype my post but this is part of the process, for me anyway, being honest out loud about my life.
I think the emotional wave is ebbing cause I’m feeling quite sleepy now.
Off to peaceful sleep – putting positive thoughts in my head 😉
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
Wonders I’m wondering.
Serendipitous topic ideas running unfiltered through my noggin.
Jotted some scribbles to decipher..
Fun new word!
As I go, maybe, I’ll explain.
grasp those straws!
It’s the first entry and I know what it’s about. My entitled attitude having self…
Earlier this morning I was being a real snooty princess type (which I don’t do ever) about getting to finish the new parts before having to go back to the usual ones in that I was hoarding the newbies and got all protective of my stash when Brad showed up wanting in on the goods.
He ACTUALLY works there (on probation) but just recently graduated out of temp-status and is a bit “off” or maybe just on the spectrum.
Either way I called it right with this note.
I started off being snarky and dismissive, being pretty emasculating to boot, a real grade A asshole, I now realize, and I was in a good mood all the while.
I was even so petty that I wouldn’t move my parts an inch to give him room at his “usual” (when he works with us lowly temps-I’m being honest about my attitude to my embarrassment and it is how he treats us: “YOU guys … while I [something more important]) spot at the table. My reasoning: in order for him to get it at all he just literally rolled his chair into the newest temp without even an excuse me so I was getting payback … for her. The old lady next to me moved my stuff when I left the table and reminded me about compassion when I returned.
Well HELLO exactly what I needed to hear, right?
Guess it wasn’t enough for me because I made a point to, calmly yet snappily, tell Brad that he has a habit of tornado-ing through other people’s work areas to create his own space. Damned if the guy didn’t thank me, for letting him know, SINCERELY, not a drop of sarcasm.
THAT snapped me out of my Brad-warpath I was on and it wasn’t even an hour into the day. I went back and started my day over like they say to do in Alcoholics Anonymous
and I decided kindness was my kick for the day and maybe even a dash of empathy!
It worked though, Brad and I got along well and not in the fake coworkers kind of way but we had some interesting conversations (well interesting to him but I played ball, with empathy even – for myself – no really, I was good).
What made me know that we’d gotten somewhere in our coworkship (coworker relationship, its a thing!..) was when he said to me, he goes, “If I ever make inappropriate comments or make anyone feel uncomfortable, can you please let me know? I can’t always tell.” Even better than just anyone asking such a proactive request, Brad’s nickname (and our next topic suggestion) is Two-Cents… you’ll see
So I got excited and got ahead of myself tripping over that last sentence.
I’m doing html coding – is that correct? – to relearn how to build a webpage
(I first learned in 5th grade, I believe, and never did use it so I lost it)
and after this mess of a post will add SUBTLETIES to future posts and this allows me to do that. Okay, sorry, run-on big time.
Right, Brad! two-cent$ got his nickname for the fact that he will offputtingly interject himself into your already booked conversation using some incredibly unhumorous statement – sometimes while someone else is still talking – that, of course, he and only he finds hilarious and very rarely does he have any clue as to what the conversation is actually about so it is even more of a sore thumb. Occasionally he’ll grab a word he hears someone say or thinks he does, and, with no context, just roll with that to try to get included.
It is CRINGY, to steal my daughter’s word – I now get what it means and the feeling that word exudes is borderline physically painful.
two-cent$ is very aware that he does this, so when he asked me to let him know about making people uncomfortable…I was straight up:
“Dude [insert above description] so do you mean when you’re not INTENTIONALLY doing so? How do I…decide?” No sugar getting coated, we’re buds now, right?.
Then it gets downright depressing as he tells me – his best coworkship-person – about how he eats his meals in his room now because he got tired of having nothing to add to his parents’ conversation at the dinner table. He kept reminding me that they really want him to eat down there with them but that the only way he was part of conversations was by doing what he does: knowingly rudely interrupting people’s conversations.
He definitely is socially awkward but he knows what he’s doing is not acceptable adult real-world behavior.
I did tell him I would keep him apprised of any other social ineptitude I may witness.
Earworm aka a brainworm, sticky music, stuck song syndrome, or Involuntary Musical Imagery (IMI) is a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person’s mind after it is no longer playing.
More words! some of my favorite lyrics ever! (not the whole song, which rocks) but these:
This is how it works
You’re young until you’re not
You love until you don’t
You try until you can’t
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it worksRegina Spektor, On the Radio
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else’s heart
Pumping someone else’s blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don’t get harmed
But even if it does
You’ll just do it all again
I absolutely adore these lyrics. It explains life and relationships to the T and makes me smile while doing it. I’ll break it down for your entertainment and hopeful enjoyment later. It is too late and I am too tired but here is the rest of my topics list:
thank you for indulging me while I try
I can type. I can write. I can type what I write.
I like words. I like to throw out some random nexus of thoughts bouncing around my brain for you to enjoy, judge, copy, and/or be inspired by. Purpose.
Happiness is where my mind is at. I am happy even though my life is kinda shitty. I intensely miss Hope, my youngest who’s father isn’t allowing me to see her, and think about her everyday. Even that isn’t bringing me down, though. I’m happy in my skin and with my life.
It is said that happiness is fleeting and an often “futile attempt to swim against the tide, as happiness doesn’t tend to last.” But I feel it in me. I am happy. I’m not future tripping or wallowing in my past, I’m here (well I am still very sleepy so I’m mostly here) in this moment. Life is filled with moments, experiences and living.
I have a very dull life and I love it!
Getting to go to work everyday is such a blessing and it excites me!
I have a purpose in life, a reason to get up in the morning and get moving and THAT is what I was missing for so long. Not working and being home with my kiddos was fulfilling but once they were gone I lost my reason for being. Being me is now my reason for living.
Was going to finish this as it is now yesterdays news but I don’t have anything to add right now. Off to today!
My life is so great but for my hamartia of addiction consistently making a mess of everything. I may say that I can pull life off high and if my mother had never seen my track marks that none of the shitty stuff would have happened but it would have caught up to me eventually. Likely not in such a wholly destructive way but it could have possibly been worse (don’t know how but trying to move past blaming and try taking responsibility).
Today I slept.
I called in to work and to treatment and spent the entire day with wonderful dreams and no worries.
I’m hoping that giving myself a full day to let my body and mind recuperate from this latest relapse will stave off being half-dead for weeks. Probably not but I do feel refreshed and sober right now so we shall see.
I’ve been doing research on my mental health disorders as well as the effects of methamphetamine addiction. One aspect and downfall of both my schizophrenia and addiction is anhedonia and this is a huge part of why I relapse, I sincerely lose pleasure in seemingly every part of my life and want enjoyment back. I have both social and physical (especially sexual) anhedonia. I know that my drug use and schizophrenia are the cause of this but is also exacerbated by the anti-psychotics I take. Prior to getting treated for my schizophrenic aspect of my mental health disorder I could at least enjoy sex and orgasm, even after getting sober before, but now I’m realizing that my lack of feeling in my nether regions and pleasure from sex coincided with starting the medication regime I am currently on. Hopefully now that I know I will be able to address this with my psychiatrist and find a fix. I know that methamphetamine use brings back all of my pleasure in all areas and thus I’m prone to relapse to get these feelings back. I enjoy life when I’m high and may have caused myself a life of lacking. I can really relate to and am scared by the article I linked to there. My anhedonia possibly being caused by both of my comorbid disorders (methamphetamine abuse and schizoaffective [schizophrenia and bipolar 1/mania] disorders) is discouraging and with the simple fix of using again really dampens my resolve to stay sober. I am brilliant at finding reasons to get high though so I’m not going to use this as an excuse, instead I’m trying to accept the repercussions of my choices and look for a healthy way to fix the issue.
This has helped me to understand why the motivation of bettering my life to get my children back hasn’t been enough to keep me sober. I was starting to believe I’m just a shitty mom and don’t love my girls enough but I knew that wasn’t true. Being a mom was my life and I was happy and fulfilled before methamphetamine so now I need to figure out keeping my focus on getting back to that mentality without using. Did I destroy my ability to do so, though? The possibility of that being a fact is a sucker punch to my psyche.
Being completely forthcoming I am currently planning my next relapse in my head already but am fighting to shut down that urge to want that next high. I want there to be no next high and I want to want there to be no next high. What a conundrum.
I hate this story but it is a HUGE part of my life story and must be told at some point so why not now?
The most importantest: I have two daughters, Riley and Hope, now they are 12 and 7 respectively but at the time of the abduction by my ex Grayson (Hope’s dad, Riley’s stepdad) they were 9 and 4. I had spent nearly every moment of Hope’s life with her up until that day and Riley had gone on a couple vacations with Grandma but otherwise only left my side to go to school. These two are my whole world and always will be. I had made some choices that left us homeless after a caregiver live-in (for me and my girls too good to be true right…bed bugs!) position went awry and we were no longer able to stay there and my grandparents (where we had been staying prior to moving for the job) wouldn’t let me go back, only the girls could. And I did send them to stay there for a week while I got us set up in the motel and Riley’s transportation arrangements made for school got worked out. At that point it was the longest period I’d been away from Hope ever and I thought THAT was hard, little did I know what Grayson had in store.
If only I’d been there: Grayson came to our motel where he had picked the girls up and taken them for dinner two days prior while I was at the store and they were with their babysitter, Tiffeny. He told Tiffeny that he was taking them for dinner and they’d be back in an hour or two. Instead Grayson took the girls and left Tacoma and took them to where he’d been staying – with his new family he’d acquired while not visiting the girls for months – in Seattle. He knew I didn’t have a vehicle and had no means of getting anywhere near Seattle but he made sure that wouldn’t have mattered anyway. When I called him to see when they’d be back, as it had been more than a couple hours by then, he refused to tell me where they were or let me talk to them. And, of course, he refused to bring them back.
I felt that I couldn’t do anything about it cause I didn’t even have a car or a real place for us to live so I didn’t think the police were going to help me. I couldn’t even tell them where they were and there wasn’t a parenting plan in place for Hope so he had as much “rights” to her as I did.
What I could have, would have, should have gotten him was on kidnapping Riley because he had NO parental ANYTHING to her and definitely didn’t have my or her father’s [Aiden’s] permission to take her. I realized this then, not right away but within the week at most, but had already spun myself out to forget.
I’ve always upheld that I wasn’t getting high around my kids and then Grayson took them SO I got high. It was also my excuse for having methamphetamine (thankfully, as it could have made matters worse for me, there was no heroin, how not is still a wonder to me) in an exorbitant amount in my hair follicle test – I had binged AFTER he’d taken my kids and refused to bring them back. The truth must be very obvious by now: I’d definitely gotten high while I was with (not in the same room ever nor in their view) my girls since I was getting high and I was a stay at home mom who was always with my girls and been around them while high more often in the years since my accident than not. I did a hardcore binge on meth and heroin after he took my babies and at the time left me with no hint at even what city they were in.
I use the word devastated for my experience being, at the very least, emotionally cheated on and finding out but the true definition of devastation is what I felt without my girls along with the awareness that NOTHING WOULD EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN. Not knowing that they were okay nearly killed me, they needed me they didn’t know anything but their mommy! And that he wouldn’t even let me talk to them to reassure them or just hear that they weren’t in any anguish, like I was, further compounded my genuine desire to die. The only thing that kept me going was that they still needed me and no matter what I couldn’t leave them behind on this Earth without their mom, not by my doing at least.
I’ve never experienced such loss before or since and the hole it tore through me was an indescribable combination of heartbreak and despair made even more intense by it being my babies, my life, my everything and having them ripped from me so abruptly and unexpectedly. I didn’t even get to hug or kiss them goodbye.
Because my emotions were so forceful and gut wrenching and after I gave up begging Grayson to let me talk to my girls and hung up on his holier-than-thou bash-Lyric-a-thon (I’ve used plenty of drugs with this guy and knew he was still using and drinking so I couldn’t be bothered with his dripping hypocrisy if I wasn’t going to talk to my kids), I dove straight into my stash and did up the entirety.
I didn’t care if I ODed, I actually would have preferred it. So I got blown (really really frikkin high) and just kept on going to forget I even existed. Even through my drug-induced haze of numbness the pain of being without my kids was the most sickeningly intense, excruciating emptiness. I thought I was, and welcomed, having a heart attack because I had shooting pains in my heart and a restriction in my chest crushing me into the little ball that I stayed rolled into for hours, geetered (really really frikkin high) and sobbing. I must have looked a mess and the depressed, crying girl in the corner is always to be avoided less you fall into their low. I lost a big part of my self, that I’ll never get back, when that went down.
And then I started my spiral, ran straight to the shit- which got me screwed on that hair follicle and with Grayson’s lies backed by my grandparents newfound knowledge of my lifestyle and the happenings within it being taken as God’s word by my GAL I was toast before I even knew I had an emergency hearing for my grandparents to take custody of Riley. I sobered up for that few hours and agreed that Riley would temporarily stay with my grandparents while I got back on my feet and into housing for us.
I got to see Hope being held by a stranger of a woman who tried to keep her from me and came to find out this was Grayson’s new family, her two sons Mikaela and Montgomery (yeah I don’t have any explanation to either) were in the truck. I realized she was purposefully flaunting my daughter to screw with me and went to find Grayson. I got about 10 minutes of time with Hope and agreed to them taking Riley camping and wrote a release note for picking her up at school. I figured I should be as amicable as I could fake so that I could get as much information as possible.
Grayson was there at the emergency hearing to see that his plan had gone as hoped – he had set everything in motion before he even knew where we were staying. After not having a vehicle or license the entire 6 years we were together his daddy came to visit and paid off his tickets, got him his license, and bought him a truck and insurance spending over $20,000 and with Grayson, as always, not having to take any responsibility or action on his own. He’d been talking to my grandparents and his lies (and I’d be honest if he was telling truths but these were fake and too ridiculous for a normal, rational and knowledgeable people to even begin to take seriously or anyone who had been around Grayson to buy into) worked like a charm in convincing my grandmother he’d been doing all the work with the girls and covering for my lack of involvement and he had been some upstanding “husband” and “father” the whole time we were together. In reality he couldn’t keep a job, leeched off of unemployment that I did the job searches and paperwork for him for, was only interested in his “band” and “making it” as a bassist, and when he wasn’t playing “music” he would sit and play hours and hours of video games. He also drank his rum and cokes nightly and was latched to his marijuana dabber pen/pipe thing (he couldn’t go an hour without multiple tokes. When he’d bailed on the girls for months while he enjoyed his other family instead of his responsibilities to Riley and Hope my dad set up a visit with him to see them when I was in California for my first rehab stint. After arriving late and not making it on the bus the full distance, causing my dad to have to go retrieve him, he chatted up my dad’s girlfriend about penis piercings and other inappropriate topics. When he was suppose to take the girls to the park, to get him to actually spend some time with them, he all of a sudden couldn’t find his pipe and had to search for and find it before taking it with him to smoke in front of the girls per usual. He neglected his responsibilities and then the one time in my life where I was completely down and out he came in to kick me while I was on the ground.
It should have been enough for all involved parties that Riley was safe and taken care of and that I was going back to drug and alcohol treatment to address this “binge” I’d had but this bitch of a not-involved party thought she’d latch on to the now steadily floating ship and light a gasoline fueled fire on the deck. We’ll meet my mother when the saga continues.
To be continued
she said, bullshit that followed
Contradictory my dear: Grayson’s rendition of what he supposedly found at the motel are plentiful and all from his mouth negating each other. I have court documents where he says in one that there was a big bag of drugs on the bed and another where there were individually wrapped small bags and the other written version of events he claims there was only paraphernalia on the dresser.
Unbeknownst to him: There really were no drugs. OH THERE I GO LYING!! There weren’t any drugs in the front room but in the locked back room there was my heroin and meth stash hidden after being enclosed in this weird miniature boxy drawstring bag – this thing was black so I had to search for it in the dark upper corner of the closet knowing where it was. I can honestly say I have always made sure that there was no possibility of my kids getting into any drugs, accidentally or purposefully, and they were never in the same room as any drugs when they were with me (as for with their fathers I am not sure and since Grayson was getting high after he took my girls and while they were in his care as shown by a hair follicle found dirty with cocaine I am pretty positive with how I know he acts when getting high that they were in the same room as his drugs at least once and more so if you count marijuana [dabs mostly at this point in his life] and I don’t but am going to because the courts forbid his use eventually. Although they turned a blind eye to the cocaine which has always boggled my mind and really pissed me off). I’m not excusing my behavior I never should have had any drugs or ever been under the influence around my girls. I know I am in no way some innocent victim.
I knew he’d made up what he claimed to have seen as soon as the first version was available to me because it was my room and my girlfriend Tiffeny was watching the girls while I went to the store to get a fan and socks cause it was too hot to have the girls walk with me so I know there were no drugs in the main room of our motel room. If I had had drugs out there they wouldn’t have been laying out for anyone to see and these drugs were supposedly on the bed and in large quantities but that was where the girls were playing and getting their hair done. Truth be told, by Tiffeny, Grayson didn’t even go into the room but just stuck his head in the room to call the girls to come out. He barely looked up from what Tiffeny said he seemed intimidated by her (him).
Tiffeny is a transgender female (so born male but now female) who is an absolutely gorgeous, black, fit and muscular, woman but it was (haven’t seen her in years now) apparent from her body type and jawline that she had been Michael prior. For sure she could kick Grayson’s ninny ass without effort but him being fearful of her just shows what a pussy he is as she is a sweetheart and at the time he saw her she was braiding Hope’s hair. Grayson made it out to be a negative that I allowed the girls around Tiffeny and tried to bring it up in court as some form of child abuse on my part by exposing my girls to what they knew to be their female babysitter they had stay with them a couple times. It got nowhere that I ever heard about within the courts and Grayson has since apologize for trying to create an issue.
He also said there was no food or drinks and the entire table holding the TV was covered in cereal, snacks, fruit and gatorade (I got like 600$ in foodstamps back then so they weren’t hungry). That claim from him got me neglect in my case with Hope but it was only his word which for whatever reason the courts took as truth even with his inconsistent statements about there being drugs. His daddy paid out nearly $40,000 for an attorney to annihilate me and my reputation and parenting abilities in court. There is a lot not right with the case and how it worked out with the contradictory statements, some very obviously forged UAs, the drugs in his hair, and more in his favor when I had been the only parent for the year prior. That is what his daddy paid for and they won.
This was my rock bottom and I numbed myself so completely and still felt the pain. I avoided dealing with any of it by continuing to numb myself and eventually I came to accept my situation. So technically I hit the lowest point possible but I was too far gone to experience it for real. There are a lot of moving parts and people working together behind my back to see to it that I would have to do exactly what my mother wanted which included being without my kids for at least a year and a half. And that is just a part of what she did. Family is suppose to help not hurt and I learned the hard way that that wasn’t the case in mine. More on all that to come.
I don’t feel much since then and in the one instance where I did I ran back to numbing myself. I am now back at square one again but my heart’s not in it. Maybe I need to hit rock bottom for real but I don’t think I could survive any more heart-wrenching devastation or loss any time soon and preferably never. So I’ll have to figure out how to get and stay sober without my life getting worse and I think I can be okay with that.
((There is a lot more to come, this is just the beginning of the end of my life as I’d known it. I’ll tell you what, though, I learned who my friends and family really were and that I didn’t really have any of either. Strangers, people new to my life and all of which I’d known less than a month are who kept me safe and on my feet. I’ll continue to share my experiences with all of that and more. I’ll be linking stories to the events timeline (unfinished but I’m working on it) so you can get a look at the happenings I’ll be writing about. I’ll write something for every occurrence listed eventually and the list isn’t done yet.))
Today would have been day 1 of my sobriety but I took Excedrin PM for my headache at work thinking it might make me a little sleepy but I’d be fine. Well probably exacerbated by not having slept last night I ended up being what I can only describe as a surreal high. I was in and out of reality and couldn’t carry on a conversation properly. I thought I was going to get fired!
Thankfully boss man reassured me that they are still looking to hire me in the near future and sent me home to get some rest.
He also accused me of being on drugs to which I only copped to the Excedrin PM and blamed lack of sleep the past couple days for any oddities he felt I had portrayed. It seemed really weird since I hadn’t noticed him out on the floor much yesterday. Maybe he was just checking since I was admittedly “high” from the Excedrin. I didn’t use any meth today but I am feeling some withdrawal symptoms and that may have contributed to the intensity of the diphenhydramine’s effect on me.
I am thinking of being honest with him about being in recovery after I get a little time sober and probably not until he hires me. So maybe never but I didn’t like making him feel bad for accusing me. I didn’t lie and I didn’t deny anything however I think he took my look of disbelief and tears coming to my eyes as such but I was still feeling fuzzy and thought I was getting fired so that was the cause of the tears. Worked out either way. Got off a couple hours early and gotta be back in at 6 am.
Recovery day -1: I didn’t intentionally get stoned/high but I’d rather start my sobriety off totally clean. That is a negative 1 but I guess it should be a zero anyway so oh well. Tomorrow is my first day of the rest of my life sober.
Admitting my shit to you is a lot harder than I expected it to be on this one.
I haven’t been lying but I haven’t been being honest either.
Playing games that I hate, to avoid asking for help or whatever it is that I need of you, my reader.
sO that happened.
picKed up this past Thursday.
4 days totaL oFF scRipt
feeling ashamed and foolish
it is me who is fucking my shit up for me
AND WHY? because I wanted more energy back right now, I didn’t want to do the work. I’ve got to do the work.
ADMITTING IT NOW because I’m ready to do sobeR again NOW and need to NOW.
i am maKing a conscious effort to NOT hit up micK and need to throw out the pipe i bought to utilize as soon as it is all gONe.
aDDict me: caNNot toss any doPe in the trash :: will make certain dONe and gONe before beD tONight.
typINg like its a RaNsOM noTe because iT iS — my dopefiend aSS is holding my sobrieTy hostage from mYself.
RaNsOM? reaLLy beiNg reaDy and waNting to quiT and sTay quiT.
There is the rub – am I and do I?
I want to be ready and I don’t want to stress over and lie about what I am doing anymore. In order for me to be honest I have to stay sober, high me lies for no reason.
The idea of not using ever again seems preposterous but that is future tripping and not helpful. I like to get high and that isn’t changing (even while making myself sick knowingly smoking too much so that it will deter me)…and liking to do something I shouldn’t do is not reasonable argument for doing it.
I cannot forget that I am a master manipulator and I am fantastic at convincing myself to do the wrong thing and brilliantly justify my bad behavior BUT have been being honest with myself way more so and pretty brutally.
Already planning my relapse for after I’ve gained ten pounds back Yowza doing this off script may make the actions I do within this chaos more attainable because I’m already overwhelming myself.
daiLy uPdates :: monTh.Day (0.1, 0.2, 0.3 then 1,1, 1.2, 1.3, etc. ) – poSt titLe
focus at least 1 paragraph/4 sentences to checking in about recovery and/or
create template/layout with questions to check in on daily
weekLy goaLs :: cReate new caTegory (StoP tYping LiKe aN aSShoLe NOW) post every
Monday so I can start today :: 2 goal minimum
get BigBook back out and pg 78? every morning …not likely but need to try different ideas.
Medications NIGHTLY and put GAB and some Prozac in car for high anxiety days. (Reduce trazadone on weekends and possibly during week
Set up a check list to document and keep accountable.
Honestly identify and document relapse triggers (ex. weight gain) and what to do rather than use (bullshit I know I wont do) THE RUB!
Brainstorm Ideas for actions/activities to keep me ACTIVELY sober.
Point: I am very focused on using when I’m in ACTIVE addiction but haven’t been being ACTIVE in my sobriety when I am sober. The more I focus on not using is just more time spent focusing on meth. I need to focus on BEING SOBER first. Staying sober will come after I can learn to be sober first.
I admitted all to Alex as well. Continue honesty even if I slip I need to be forthcoming when it happens not later. The real thing to do is bring it up before I pick up because I know and plan my relapses now that I’ve been on the 2-3 weeks gripping the wagon and 1-2 weeks bailing out the back and going on a binge for the past 5 months.
Telling someone I am planning to use before picking up is the correct thing to do but that is me choosing not to use (asking to be talked out of it) and therein lies the issue.
I do not know how to stop wanting to get high. I know it takes time. This last 20 days that I made it up until Thursday I wasn’t craving using so much as I was wanting to have energy. I had been starting to be awake for an hour or two after work toward the end. Life doesn’t have time for my body to readjust my sleep schedule but I have to make time and remember that every time I pick up again all that time my body spent healing is flushed with another couple days added to the length of time I’ll be dead to the world.
Goals, count-up widget for 30 days, google app for sobriety count, lose bEck’s number, vent through blogging, get out of bed by 530 every am, lay out clothes night prior,
This blog is saving my ass because I was going to re-up tonight and just keep up the charade until I was ready to face it but definitely put that off for a while. Then I read a couple blog posts that really affected me to a core part of myself that I thought died when Grayson abducted my girls and everything went to hell overnight lit up a bit. Today, though, I was flooded with feelings of empathy, for a minute I let myself care for real, and I for a quick thirty seconds I felt a little rush of hope. I’d have gotten more meth if not for those small but huge mini-emotional breakthroughs. No idea why today but very grateful for it and should maybe put a little faith out there in working on things in my sobriety.
Off to set me some goals and create an outline. Any and all ideas welcomed.
You walked into the room and it was full of people, but I didn’t see the people. You shot me a cynical look and I already knew what you were thinking. 426 more wordsThe 3 Stages Of Falling Apart — Thought Catalog
This is the most impacting piece of writing I’ve read in years if not ever.
It more than just speaks to the reader, it more than just paints a picture.
I felt the writing, not as in feeling any of the characters’ emotions, while that is all depicted phenomenally I felt the writing.
Each word seemed heavy with a sort of rawness and vulnerability.
Every word spoke to me and seemed purposeful and necessary.
The concept is one that I would usually, and almost did, pass over as relationship/break up are overdone topics but the author brings you through the 3 stages of a relationship: the honeymoon period, the active relationship with gloves off most often, and the break up/end. It feels like you experience them all as the reader in an out of body surreal sensation that I can’t put the correct word for.
The point of view creates a calm resigned atmosphere that pulls at the heartstrings but not in a sad way, it is very bittersweet and comforting.
When you read it let the writing read to you and listen instead.
This is an intoxicating piece of writing and it looks and even reads (word for word wise) pedestrian but deeply affected me in an, apparently, indescribable way.
I am inspired by this.
So I’d set some goals for this week and I’ve upheld posting every day (I did forget to hit publish and put one out a day late but still!!) but haven’t finished either of the life stories, however I did start two.
I’ll set some goals for this week tomorrow or Monday. I think achieving some small attainable tasks to completion regularly I’ll feel like I’m progressing more so. One I’m going to do, since I’m thinking about it, is actually attending 2 AA meetings this week rather than forging my slip for treatment. I think my last slip was a bit obviously forged because I switched up some handwriting for one of the ones I use regularly by accident (I was mimicking a different person’s writing instead for the wrong person) and my counselor gave it a very quizzical look. Oh well, I need to start actually going anyway and that gives me a bit more motivation.
Today is a family day we’ve got 3 of 4 kiddos and hopefully the fourth later today.
Feeling a bit anxious but nothing my meds can’t dull down. I don’t take anything addictive (no opiates or benzos) so I’m not getting high off my prescriptions at all either. They don’t prescribe addicts benzos anymore I guess cause they cut off my Xanax. I think it’s the place I go since they have treatment centers within the same entity.
My anxiety is just like a constant gnawing buzz in my head and ache in my gut so nothing specific which is kind of annoying because I can’t actively solve something that isn’t.
Off to enjoy some sunshine!!
Have a blessed day.
So grateful for having work to go to today because I would have been struggling to not go pick up and once again postpone the inevitable if I had been sitting around the house. I didn’t want to leave work, really, I was enjoying being productive and keeping myself busy.
I didn’t even crave getting high so much as I was missing it in my break routine. I’ve worked at this place for one week and one day and, yes, I created a routine on my breaks that involved smoking meth at this brand new temporary job that I can’t afford to lose. I have a serious problem. If I had gotten caught that would have cost me utilizing the agency I work through, as well as this job that I find enjoyable, and likely would have involved the police.
The choices I make when using are so oblivious of consequences and just plain idiotic, almost as though I’m trying or wanting to get caught. The choices I make sober to get high are going to kill me. I was ODing myself on meth over the past few days to finish the shit that I bought at the beginning of this week to postpone quitting Monday, so that I could quit by today ((I am incapable of “wasting” drugs by flushing them even when I want to apparently)). I was smoking myself exhausted and thankfully didn’t cause myself to pass out at work.
So I made it through the day portion of Day 1 and my night is uneventful and safe. I’m flat broke, well I have a few bucks I could pry off of my debit card, so that is a potential bad path of picking up a little something if my night doesn’t go according to plan. ((Negative thinking brings about negativity. I need to NOT give myself excuses for and/or PLAN to relapse.))
The issue: My ex is suppose to be dropping off my eldest daughter for the weekend, she’s suppose to be here every weekend, but last weekend he kept her and didn’t tell me ahead of time what was up so I am nervous that tonight could be a repeat. We have a parenting plan through the court but don’t abide by it and have verbally (awaiting him signing the new parenting plan) agreed to my having weekends him having weekdays for her schedule. He is an addict/alcoholic and has been sober almost 2 years and is, rightfully so I know, skeptical of my continued sobriety ((I was doing good for a while and relapsed in October and continued using off and on until today since then)) but also snubs his nose at anyone struggling with using even after being a degenerate and absent from our daughter’s life for nearly ten years. He knows he has all the power right now, though, because I’m behind on the old parenting plan stipulations for my custody to be restored and she’s suppose to live with my grandparents per the court until she’s back with me but they gave her to him so it’s a cluster fuck. He agreed she’d be here when I talked to him last week but is not responding to my text or answering my calls all week. I hate this and I caused all of it by using drugs and making poor decisions for the past few years. Now I am just fucking myself by using and making my situation with seeing my girls even more difficult than it already is dealing with my exes wanting to punish me.
UPDATE: ***Hooray for the ASS! being me in assuming the worst and this ASS! is happily chillin’ with my daughter while she chats with her friends online. More good news: exhubby is willing to look over the plan I sent him and we are on good terms and in agreement to co-parent and work together. So no negativity tonight or any excuse I may have tried to use to go out and make poor decisions.***
Oh yeah that reason why I need to be sober NOW is because I should STILL be sober now. I relapsed in October, it was my third relapse since getting sober in April 2017, and I am just now making it out of the meth clouds to get my head back on straight. I fell off big time and didn’t even see what was happening. I was still quoting how I fell off for a couple months to myself yesterday. Delusional much, I think so. I thought I had this shit on lock and told myself I was just using for a few days here and there, controlled, purposeful, not addicted just getting high every once in a while… Addicts are manipulative little bullshitters, am I right? Well keeping it about me, I am for sure. I’ve been throwing my life away again and have no one to blame for whatever consequences arise besides me damn self! Oh for fucksticks sakes this is just one day, day one of digging myself out of the hole I’ve been digging behind my own back!
I’m 6 months into a year’s worth of outpatient treatment that was put as a stipulation for my visitations with my youngest daughter and I also incorporated it into the plan with my oldest as well to appease the exes need for me to jump through hoops like he had to. I’m in compliance and all my UAs have come back negative for drugs/alcohol. I’ve been faking the funk for months and cannot wait to go give a real clean UA next week, well maybe the week after I don’t want to push my luck and come back dirty because I didn’t wait long enough after using – failed UA means restarting treatment also. In my research I’ve found that it can take anywhere from 2 to 10 days for methamphetamine to leave a person’s system/be undetectable in urine. I’ve tested the theory, at a different facility than where I attend treatment, at $50 per UA – through some trial and error – with the most recent failed UA being after 5 full days of no use. I’ve wasted a lot of money and created evidence of my relapses by hoping for the best and knowing better which is just stupid and another way using is negatively impacting my life.
Insanity: ME doing the same thing, using methamphetamine [drugs], over and over and expecting a different outcome.
I made it.
I’m getting very sleepy and I have now gone 24 hrs without using.
1 day sober
So this is it, today was my last day being high.
Since this is the first entry I want to have something captivating to say but, to be honest, I am just tired and ready to be done.
I’m creating this blog to document my sobriety and the ups and downs of getting clean.
Here’s an idea let me introduce myself and my situation.
I’m Lyric. 32 year old white female. Long brown hair, blue eyes, currently a little too thin and as always 5’1″. Right now I’m sporting pigtails and a beanie with holey jeans and a hooded t-shirt suggesting “Start a Revolution” (and never would have thunk it a hooded t is actually cute with a long sleeve under..).
I’m a mom of two daughters, Riley and Hope, 12 and 7 respectively, and the girlfriend of a guy I want to smack upside the head at the moment.
I’ve always wanted to blog and love to write so all I needed was something to say and well two birds with one computer – documenting getting sober is keeping me accountable to myself ((and you cause now there is a you)) and is my blog topic.
My addiction, briefly (I will delve into the details in a separate category where I will recount stories of impacting happenings during my active use) here:
I’m a functioning methamphetamine abuser meaning I can still be a useful member of society when I’m high. I was high at work with none-the-wiser this entire past week and they keep requesting me back even-so. I also attend a drug treatment outpatient program once a week and have been under the influence on multiple occasions without repercussions. I’m not proud of my choices, I just am a “functioning addict.”
The extent of drugs/how I’ve used: I’ve ended my few month “relapse” solely smoking methamphetamine but I used to shoot it ((use needles)) and years ago I would snort it ((used it for about 2 weeks one summer in my early twenties)). I have almost 2 years clean off of heroin which I smoked and shot up for a little over a year. I mixed heroin and meth use and combined the drugs to shoot together. I quit heroin because I didn’t like nodding off/sleeping as a high. Meth is my DOC ((drug of choice)). I quit drinking alcohol a little over 2 years ago as well, save for one beer and one Bloody Mary on separate occasions. I’ve, of course, smoked pot ((I hate the high from marijuana now though so it’s been over a year since at least)). I’ve used mushrooms, dropped acid and done salvia all one time each in my teens. My gateway drug was oxycodone with a prescription for an extended period.
How I got into drugs when I was a stay at home mom: I was in an accident in 2012 that caused me to break my four front teeth and upper portion of my jaw. Due to the painful nature of broken bones and teeth I was prescribed oxycodone 30 mg tablets very generously. My doctor meant well, wanting to keep me from being in pain, and eventually he reduced my prescription to 10 mg tablets but it was too late by then, I was hooked and didn’t even know it yet. I figured out very quickly that I had become addicted to pain pills when my amount was reduced and I started having aches and cravings for more pills.
So I had been taking a prescription, not street drugs, and was a capable mom and wife and doing all my normal activities which deluded me into believing I was safe from addiction. Turns out my doctor was just my dealer with a degree and a script pad.
After the doc reduced my fill I got desperate to “feel right” and bought pills from a friend whose kids and mine had play dates.
Haha STOP! GOTTA CATCH MYSELF I AM GOING TO BE BRUTALLY HONEST ABOUT MY USE AND FEELINGS THROUGHOUT USING AND QUITTING SO THERE IS SOMETHING AUTHENTIC ABOUT this BLOG AND MY STORY. SO I’M GOING TO TELL ON MYSELF AND CALL MYSELF OUT WHEN I TRY TO LIE — judge not lest ye be judged lol — I started buying pills from a dealer I met through my husband’s work friend, dude’s brother, and brought my kids to play with his kids because my kids went with me everywhere, turns out even to buy drugs.
((I SO want to justify that it was JUST pain pills that he sold, not CRACK, and that we hung out with him and his wife occasionally not JUST took my kids to their house to buy drugs. As I think back my kids and I were there a lot for a while but that doesn’t make it a good scenario…. So there is my bullshit attempt to make my poor choices seem okay but they weren’t and I sound dumb and caught. I’ll continue to incorporate my inner struggle with admitting my shit so I am being honest but yikes to actually publishing this right?!))
So much information and so much time to tell all about it after I get some sleep and wake up to start my DAY 1 of sobriety.
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