Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

pɐʎ ʇʍǝןʌǝ – I, eM —< in ym way

it be's the entirety of the bLog post
stinkin' thinkin'
focus positive
change my view
happy sober

Optimist - always YES

12 days of clean time .. using gave to me:

10 sober slogans

Make it load!! I think you'll enjoy it!!
clean.dopefiend
dopefiend.blog
wiNNiNg
lackadaisicalwhimsy
high fiVe
random circumstance
the end?
Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, reblog, recovery

reblog :: 06.08.19 – reading in recovery : today’s gift

from Hazeldon Betty Ford Foundation.

reblogged from christophermturner
check out his site MY LIFE AND OTHER SORDID TALES

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.

Posted in recovery

δαλs 2 αηδ 3 – ραss τнιs sнαℓℓ

Forcing myself to spend time awake and involved in my day.
My body craving sleep and pulling me toward hibernation.
I fight it.
Day 2 I felt fine for most, worked an extra 3 hours and only fell out toward the end. Just my friendly coworker noticed and brought me back to focus without consequence. Thankful. Grateful. Stayed awake the rest of the day hit NA and fought with my internet. Finally giving in to the desperate hold of sleep when Alex pulled me in for a hug that I kept embracing until morning rung.
Day 3 only a 3 hour workday (they asked for extra, I couldn’t give) sick to my stomach, just an ache that wouldn’t amount to releasing anything but threatened insistently. My head burst intermittently when I moved just so, and just so was not consistent to any one movement it was just so. Boss bought breakfast thought I wouldn’t, then I did and so worth it. I hadn’t eaten in days probably a big cause of my haze. Thankful. Grateful. Full. Got home and gave in, let sleep win. Overcome with comfortable ease of nothing I didn’t make NA, skipped treatment too, called in and said I had the flu. Fever! don’t make us sick, yeah I’m not slick she knew I wasn’t. Got my ass up to go see my girl sing in her school choir performance. Spent the whole time searching the sea of young little faces and none belonged to me. Listened and waited and left with confusion, tried her dad’s phone to no resolution. Later she called and we figured it out – she’d been standing too low for my shortness to account. Moral being that I’m glad I’m kicking my own ass out of hibernation and not letting life just pass. Cause even though we didn’t see one another she was just overjoyed that I’d been there to support her. These moments we can’t get back and of which I’ve missed too many.
I’m interrupting this cycle and taking away my excuses, its taking real effort and not even about using. I only have a tiny smidge of craving that gets stamped out with thoughts I’m reframing. None of this is meant to be a complaint or a whine – just putting my experience out there so anyone in need can see it is hard as hell but we can be set free.

Posted in recovery

pɐʎ 1 – gOOdbYe yesterdAy

Today is the day
To make a change
To take a chance
To leap with faith
To keep my mind safe
To ask for help
To task my.self
Allay all doubt today

They said it works.
I read it works.
I tried my way.
They provide my way.

Nothing to lose
Unless I choose
Again to use
And induce self-abuse

the feLLowship [A.A.]
welcomed me back with
open arms
NbS [N.A.]
welcomed me in with
open hearts


It always seems impossibLe
until its done.


time Takes time

Situation
That
Opposes
Positivity

I’m doing recovery for keeps NOW.
Will I stay clean?
According to them [N.A./A.A. people] so long as I’m working my program I will succeed
Almost finished with my step 1

So thankful for the welcoming fellowship in both of the programs [N.A./A.A.] and I am greatly enjoying meetings.

when aLL eLse faiLs
foLLow directions

Changes:
Attending NA & AA daily if work allows
Actively searching for a sponsor
[the woman I asked today has all the sponsees she can handle but said I can call anytime]
Working the steps and doing the work with N.A. Step Working Guides

Failure is only real if you give up.
Posted in recovery

reLapse = end gaMe?

Maybe not this time.
Hell with the roll I’ve been on probably nothing to be worried about, right.
Eeeeehh wrong.
Of course I’m the chosen one and that means I’m bullet proof.

Which is the belief of every person that goes back out.
Not gonna happen to me. I KNOW what I’m doing.

I’m safe – I don’t use heroin anymore, I smoke meth.
No one OD’s smoking meth, you fall asleep before being able to.
I’m not shooting it when I relapse, THAT would be scary.

“If it is on the internet then it must be true,” Abraham Lincoln.

I got my information from what I’d been told by other users and my internet “research” but when I took another look without trying to get the answer I wanted to hear I found a much darker reality:

In 2017 over 10,000 overdose deaths occurred from the use of Psychostimulants (most common being methamphetamine) and while, yes many of these OD deaths also included an Opioid involvement, over 5,000 of the 10,000+ were caused solely by Psychostimulants.

I don’t know how to produce my drug of choice or my drug of second choice.
Even if I did I wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly what was in what I’d be picking up to use.

I play Russian Roulette with my sanity and mental acuity every time I take a hit.
And say I were to get a batch that amps my system up higher and faster than the “usual,” which I’ve experienced, I could cause my heart to explode.

Methamphetamine overdoses cause heart attacks, strokes and comas and frequently psychosis with or without the physical ailments.

I know this and I still convince myself that it wouldn’t happen to me.
Insanity.
Especially because it has happened to me, and I barely made it back.

We convince ourselves that the people who OD and/or die from drug abuse fucked up, it was their own fault, and we know better. But we’re still using, so apparently we don’t.


OD on Me.

oops… my bad

So my scariest overdose, yes there is more than one to choose from, during my stint using heroin I didn’t even experience. When you use heroin the idea is to get high right? You’re pushing yourself to the brink of overdose every time you shoot the poison into your veins.
I don’t care how attune you are to your use, how well you know your amounts, your tolerance, any measurement you use regularly could be your last if the chemicals react wrong that time.
For me I simply used too much of something stronger than I was used to.
It was the first time I was shooting up without the guy that had introduced me to this devil dance setting up my amount but I had his best friend doing the honors and we went with less than what my usual dose was. I was so excited for oblivion, I didn’t think twice before fully expending the entirety of my rig into my bloodstream.
Immediately I felt the warm embrace of my dark mistress and the intensity continued to rise until I lost the ability to speak, or move, my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I was free floating in the blackest of black engulfing whatever was left of my being, I’d lost all connection to my body and while I desperately wanted to find where it had gone the soothing blackness was lulling me deeper into the abyss. I felt an aching fear that I was lost and not in control of me, of where I was or was going. I have been blown (incredibly, intensely high where you have to keep hold of something inside of you to bring you back to reality eventually) out of my mind numerous times when I thought I’d lost my grip but this time there had not been anything to hold on to.

For what felt like an eternity I floated in the nothingness that the enticing blackness had become. I knew I needed to find my something to hold onto to get back. Back to.. my girls a snippet of what felt like thought and then nothing. No tether. “My girls” meant less and less to whatever processing I was clinging to. I felt nothing at all.
Almost fully succumbed to whatever total enmeshment that felt less and less when everything turned white and spun so fast if I’d had a stomach still I would have been sick for sure. I feel something with my being, almost like something slipping through my fingers. The enormity of emotions I experienced realizing I’d found my connection, my hold onto to get back intangible way back.
While I felt so close to what I was yearning for by instinct my thoughts and feelings swirled in some mush that felt muddied and indistinct.
I desperately wanted to make sense of the murky swirls and an overwhelming sense of dread overtook all of my focus.
Noise! Just realizing that it had been more than silent during my experience the incomprehensible moaning got faster, frantic. I was feeling the sound more than hearing it and the cloudy froth was in all of my senses.
As though I’d been snapped into place, a searing burn erupted in my lungs and I physically felt all my extremities go from numb to pins and needles in a wave. It was as though my whole body was experiencing the sensation of “waking up” like if my foot had fallen asleep. It was the best worst sensation to be able to be reconnected with my body but the pins and needles phenomenon intensifying in all the wrong places.
My lung was still inflamed and I felt like I had the worst heartburn bubbling up and roiling making bile sear my throat as I painfully swallowed gulps of air that intensified the burning in my chest. It was excruciating and uncomfortable but my eyes opening and seeing shapes and fuzz and knowing that I was real and whole again dulled my pain as my senses were flooded with circuitry.

Slowly I began to comprehend what was going on around me. My head lolled half in, half out of the passenger window of my car as the wind whipped by. The pain in my body was again numbed but this time it was because I was so cold, shaking, shivering, and soaking wet with ice cold water.
The car jerked and whipped my head and neck to have a view of the driver’s side of the, apparently speeding, Honda Civic. We hit another jaunt in the road and I found out I was not seat-belted in as flew forward in my seat coming to rest sideways on the floor.
“Oh shit, Lyric, you’re back!” Josh whooped as he jerked the car around the cul-de-sac pulling into Colby’s driveway. I didn’t have any recollection of having left the bedroom.

Come to find out I immediately slumped over and stopped breathing after I stopped being able to speak. Instead of calling an ambulance Colby and Josh carried my unconscious, not breathing body out to the car and propped me up against it. Then they proceeded to drench me with the hose in 30 degree weather. I .. don’t know, why. I think the idea was to shock my system into forcing me to breathe. The explanation as to why no ambulance was called and why I was hurdled off property was also never articulated.
After the hose down Josh says he thought I was breathing but he couldn’t totally tell and he had to take me away from the house so he loaded me into the passenger seat and hoped the wind in my face would help me…possibly breathe or come to? I don’t think Josh had a clue what he was going for but panic set in for him when I started turning a bluish white in the face. I think he probably disagreed with his earlier assessment that the hose had gotten me breathing again.
So that is why he was whipping my car around the neighborhood all jerkily – to try to jolt me awake or breathing or … pretty much he was expecting me to die and had no clue what to do.
I was cold and couldn’t shake the cobwebs from my brain.
“That might’ve been too much for me,” I chuckled at a mortified looking Josh.
“It was way stronger than we expected and when I went to stop you from doing the whole thing I was too late and you stopped breathing.”

I knew to always test the waters before doing the entire shot. I knew that. I just didn’t that time. I always made sure. Except that time I didn’t.

Yeah I know I was warning of methamphetamine overdoses and this was a heroin OD but I got vivid flash backs and had to share, I remember the experience like it just happened, clearer now it seems.
This was my worst overdose and I’d love to say that I got scared, I took better precaution (wouldn’t make a difference anyway), I quit or at least slowed down, but it may as well have not occurred with the way I did nothing to prevent it happening again.

Broke my bRain, goed iNsaNe
yet I still dabbLe in that methamphetamine…

“Jesus was calling me, telling me to rid myself of all things but me.”
“Did he say no clothes though … or was that maybe a little of your own interpretation?”
“You’re such an asshole.”
….
“It really made all sorts of sense in the moment.”
“So you started dropping stuff all the way at the other end and at random all along the way?”
“I don’t like to make things easy, do I?”

….to be continued…




Posted in recovery

0.nineteen – feelings…no thanks!

I think at some point I said I wanted to feel things now. That I was ready to feel for real. . .
I take it back.
I don’t want to feel.

I broke down yesterday over my situation with my youngest, Hope, and how I never get to see her. I just lost it.
Alex says to think of it as growth and remember that it won’t be like this or feel like this forever.
I, on the other hand, liked being able to just deal with it without internalizing it and without that gut wrenching ache in my stomach. I felt sick all last night. All I want to do is sleep now that I’m not fully hibernating I think I’m hitting depression. I don’t want to deal. I want to hide.

I’ve got nothing positive right now. I want to use. It makes life so much easier for the moment, I realize not in the long run and is actually the cause and continued issue in the problem I am running from my feelings about.

So, I’m not taking the easy way out right now. I’m going to suck it up and stay sober today. At this moment. Right now. I am staying sober. I got through last night and I don’t feel as overwhelmingly sad/upset/ugh today.

Just for today, one day at a time, I’m staying clean.

Posted in recovery

0.seventeen – whimsically wandering

My mind is in a positive swirl of colors today.
It is a weird surreal unbalance to be in.
I don’t feel bad, at all, I feel really good but not correct.

Oh well, I enjoy colorful days on occasion, I think it is a way for my mind to breath outside the medications a little bit. I feel expanded.

I went to a meeting on Wednesday and it was amazing.
I was welcomed back with literal open arms and so much joy and fellowship at The Fellowship.
I love this meeting hall above any I’ve been to, it is like going home.
I didn’t get to NA as I planned this week, my sleeping interfered with waking back up at noon after getting home and to bed at 9 am.
But I will, soon, and I’m excited to.

AA 15.15.19
Meeting One:

Know God,
know peace.
No God, I want to know God again.
no peace. I can’t seem to find him, yet.

*Haven’t honestly given myself to this simple program until now. Was constantly dishonest – didn’t seem to have the capacity to be honest, honestly I wasn’t ready to quit for good and therefore not ready for help.*

Live         Easy        Butfor          Think…     ..First

andLet     Does      theGrace          Think         Things

Live           It            ofGod           …Think        First

I am responsible….
When anyone, anywhere
reaches out for help, I want
the hand of A.A. always to be there
and for that: I am responsible.

Make the doorknob your god [higher power].” (Click for an article that is a great read)

Stop and start our day over whenever we want to.

“People gonna be people and people gonna do things” – Gerald’s mama.
*Can’t control what people do/say – take what you need and put the rest on the back burner*

programmed self to do certain things in our addiction. AA programs you to change your life – IF you WANT to.

“I got to tell someone something good to change their life. Rather than how to jack, steal, junp, rob, etc. Something GOOD to CHANGE their life..”

Resentments: must forgive to be forgiven

“Enjoying Me.
finding peace in A.A., with God, in life, with self” – D

+No peace always chaos, all these things were happening to me – I did them to myself.
you can’t forget your past, but you don’t have to live it everyday.
wow – I did that: homelessness, brown paper sack, didn’t know how I was gonna pay my phone bill, jail… but A.A. brought me out+ – John

“Such a know it all, you couldn’t tell me shit. I know it all!
Surrender & powerlessness.
I could remove alcohol and drugs and I was still a turd; I have to work at being a good person.
Pride – know it all
but I really don’t know shit
Started reading for real this time and at page 8 hit a word I didn’t know – it was humbling
To find God (hardest part for me) had to have my mind open and heart open to form a relationship and get perspective on it.
Went to church because I was intrigued they had something I didn’t, they were happy, at least on Sundays, when they sang they sang. I tried to figure it out and as for the definition of faith and was told you can’t “figure it out” it is something you feel.” – Steve

The ability to adapt to different situations – learned through A.A.

[faith – believing in something unseen. Mind starts changing. -Gerald]

Before ignored “as we understood Him” just shut down “God.”
*I was in my feelings*

“Sticks and stones…” is what we were taught
Bullshit! Words don’t go away
Bruises and breaks heal Words make people
jump off bridges, drink,
etc.

I SHARED!!! I admitted my last 7 or 8 month relapsing and that this was my first time back in the rooms sober since.
I was told keep to keep coming back as is the A.A. way.
What matters is how I proceed to move forward my life forward.
Stop and start day over, as needed.
Gerald said he knew I’d fallen off but “We don’t shoot our wounded. These rooms is like a hospital – come here receive treatment” as to why he didn’t call me on it.

Lastly, you MAD but the person you mad about already went on about their business and forgot about you and whatever they did/said that you are letting mess up your day.

It was a good meeting.

Posted in recovery, relapse

page 1 – tell / page 2 – show

Watching a new (new to me) show Crazy Ex Girlfriend and it is full of really poignant life lessons and introspective realizations while still being lighthearted and hilarious. I have a love-hate relationship with the main character and the story-line is my worst nightmare come true and biggest insecurity in my own relationship so it is a bit torturous but I am loving it. It is weirdly awesome to be rooting against the protagonist, the writer’s really do an amazing job. I’m happy to have a new show to binge on, I need the distraction from my own failings for the weekend.

Face it.

Might as well type out what I’m doing: I’m having a tug-of-war about in my head while I keep my fingers resting on the keyboard awaiting my indecision. I can keep deleting my admission and rewording it to make myself feel better, more justified – there is no justification but I’ve decided that I have stopped deleting so I can’t take back the… I don’t need any justification, there is none, I don’t want one, I screwed up. Yeah keep going whatever you think just type it.

Wow this is harder than I thought, I figured I’d be able to just stop thinking and win out that way but instead I’m causing a backup of words that I slowly type -lost it, I NEED to correct grammar and spelling but that will be my only excuse for delete. Ignoring the grammar there so I can move on.

Here is what I’m going to do. I’m going to thought-write. What I think I will type. I’m high. So that is why I’m trying to not allow myself to avoid admitting my relapse by (yep in my head I’m pausing my thoughts to pick the right ones, should do that more often) I want to delete the whole block and start anew. It wouldn’t be, I’m cheating and leaving out filler anyway; nope, just not listening to it, that is interesting. My thoughts are attacking and I am not allowing them through. We do control our thoughts if we choose to. And I can reread slowly and stop the train.

Now I’m repeating the words on the screen over and over so I can regroup.

Be real.

Eyes. Mine hurt. It is my own fault. I don’t feel good. Again my own fault. I think – if I can get this out and actually publish it/keep it…if I can be honest- I can come back to this and remind myself how it is every time I use, the shame and regret.

I already know some of the things I need to do differently that I am avoiding – delete Mick’s number (from all the places I’ve hidden it so I’d always have it somewhere if I deleted it…that one’s a ridiculous catch-22), throw out what I have left rather than finishing it (I ALWAYS finish what I get so maybe it’ll help to break that cycle, but will I? do I really want to? I do and I don’t.), man up and make the right choices (don’t allow myself excuses), get help, set a routine and stick by it, and keep being real about it because this is helping.

I feel like I’m going to seem full of shit about wanting to be clean if I admit my relapses, especially since I’m barely getting past 20 days on these first documented attempts, but that is just it isn’t it, some part of me must be. I am past the wanting to want it, I do want it, yesterday! I’m going to post this so that I will and then I’m going to write myself some reminders on my high brain even knowing this is not what I want.

A huge part of what keeps me sane is that I know I’m going to get past this. I am going to stay clean. There is an end to my suffering in sight and I can do it, I just need to keep at it with genuine intentions. I want change in my life. I’m scared as shit. Of what, I don’t know.

PAGE 2

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

0.10 – perSevering with Sobriety

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 even.

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

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

0.1 – graSping @straws

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.

I welcome ideas in regaining pleasure and similar experiences in the comments.

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.

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

Rock boTTom – kNockeD dowN and kickeD aRound

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

 

He said, 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.

Rock bottom

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.))

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery, relapse

clean time: months.days – 0.0 :: square one

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.

“I changed my goal that day, rather than wanting to quit drinking, I wanted to become a person whose life was so great they didn’t want to drink.  And yes, that sounded impossible, but oh so desirable.”

terminally nice

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery, relapse

0 days – aNother bitiNg of duSt

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.

sobeRELAPSED

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.

pLan for beTTermenT of liFe

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,

hi there!
I could use all the help i can get so any suggestions, ideas, critiques, etc. comment or contact me perty please!!
Thank you!

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.
future.ex@dopefiend.blog
lyric@dopefiend.blog

Posted in recovery

Day 11 – bombarding ExCuSeS

I am lost. I know what not to do but stopping myself is difficult. I realize I should be reminding myself of all the reasons NOT to pick up: my kids, my health, because its a drug that is not good for my mind or my body, mainly my kids!!!, keeping my promises, being able to be honest about everything with the people in my life that mean so much to me, there is more I know but those are what I can come up with at the moment. It’s especially hard to think of reasons not to with the devil snickering at my reasons on my shoulder, no angel for me it seems. I know that is a choice not to hear my conscience as it is always there and I’m choosing to ignore the good voice.

It really matters to be ready to be ready to quit. I swear I am but I feel like I am still going to use and planning my relapses – maybe that is normal but when I quit before and it stuck for a decent amount of time I didn’t have that. I didn’t even crave it I was just done, I want that back!! So I’m going to take this a different way and just accept that it is part of quitting a intensely addictive drug like methamphetamine. I SO love being high and I went and relapsed and kept getting high every couple weeks and then I just finished a ten day binge so I have to realize that I am going to struggle, last time was a blessing but it didn’t stick anyway right? I believe my excuse for relapse was legit – did I tell it already? I know excuses are like assholes, everybody’s got one – especially for relapses. But here might as well share since I’m trying to give a clear picture of my life during, after, and in between active addiction.

My excuse reason (I take accountability for my relapse not trying to justify it just clarify what led up to it so not excusing my relapse): I hadn’t felt the overwhelmingly shitty emotions that I felt in October 2018 within my time sober and the way I had handled bad shit in my life was to numb myself by getting high so I made an inexcusably idiotic choice to relapse to run from feeling.
Let me explain: I didn’t know how to handle the betrayal I felt when I found out my boyfriend was talking to a female behind my back and actively hiding it while nightly going to the casino where he’d met her with his maps timeline saying he had been there for a whole 5 minutes but hadn’t stayed but had instead turned off his location (or was driving in a perfectly straight line for hours).
(Yeah I will accept that I am overbearing a bit by asking to see his timeline but he was lying to me AND I don’t believe there should be secrets in a relationship. I justify my nosiness and stand by my right to be so with someone I’ve been with for 3 years and is acting shady [he was making his deception painfully apparent]. And as I’ll explain in the stories of my addiction part of my blog, not by any means as out of line as I now realize my spywareing his phone was…yeah I’m not proud of myself as I once was for my snooping [while high mind you, yeah excuses, I know!] but I learned a lot from it – like not to do it again which I’ve successfully failed at along the way a bit…lots to explain but not here.)
((Another side note and part of my justification: I’m transparent with him, just so ya know, and he knows my passwords and has unfettered access to my phone and computer.))
Back to the excuse to relapse: He swears that, while my timeline tracks me perfectly and I’m on a cheap network compared to his T-Mobile, it just isn’t accurate. Yeah so more lame lies there. Anyway, he had been regularly texting this female for 4 days when I decided to check (and I’d been sober for a while so I’d stopped any sort of snooping until this really apparent change in behavior) and see what he was hiding. I confronted him about it after asking to, and being allowed, to see his phone and finding out that he was in fact deleting texts and phone calls between him and this female.
(So I can stop beating around the bush, I’m embarrassed is the thing, I checked his phone usage on his phone’s online account where it shows all text messages and phone calls placed and received among other things. I still feel justified but I know it isn’t normal to do thus my reluctance to tell on myself. I feel fine with my admission now – comments of “psycho female” are expected and not discouraged lmao I’d like to hear anyone’s opinion of any of what I share it’s part of why I’m blogging – perspective.)
I asked him about this discrepancy, came right out and told him what I knew and (I had blocked my number and called so I knew the owner of the number being conversated [not a word but you get it] with.) that I knew he had deleted it. I explained that I was feeling really ill-at-ease with what I’d found and would appreciate an explanation of why he was doing these things (talking to another female AND deleting the interactions).
He laughed at me. He said I was all wrong and that he had lent his phone to a coworker (4 days and over 50 texts a day plus long phone calls) and that I was being ridiculous and insecure. He mocked me! He told me, prior to the coworker excuse, that I was going to feel “really stupid” when I found out the truth about this situation and laughed at me some more. THEN, he accused me of being high and paranoid (I wasn’t until the next day – high not paranoid I only get paranoid when I smoke marijuana.) and said my facial expression proved it since I was clenching my jaw with anger that he…fuck explaining his excuse for accusing me he did it to throw me off his actions and he was wrong and had no real reason for his accusation besides being caught in his own bullshit.
It gets worse before it gets better as he continued trying to get away with his indiscretion, it doesn’t really get better at any point actually just an all around shitty situation. He decides he wants to take a drive and discuss it further there once he realized I’m not buying into his bullshit and I’m not budging on my desire to be told the TRUTH about what was going on.
This is where it gets ridiculous – his explanation about these hidden interactions:
So I don’t know why his ex-wife was brought up but for some reason she was and her name is Mary. When I asked what this other females name was, right after whatever discussion was happening to distract me was over, he told me Marilyn. He did say it probably wasn’t her real name, why he thought it wasn’t real unless she was hooker (and that could well be the case being he met her at the casino where they look for johns) ugh that sucks. It makes a lot of sense with how we met – I’ll get to that in stories too, sorry for all of the cliffhangers but it’s all worth the wait, you’ve probably figured out whats what from context anyway ;). So now this “Marilyn” (I can’t not put it in quotes at this point, I even use air quotes when it is talked about) and he met at the casino while he was playing she sat down next to him and he saw she was wearing a lot of jewelry and he was selling some MEN’S GOLD CHAINS that he got from some shady dealing or other so he thought to offer this FEMALE the chains and “went and got them from the car to show her” (I believe that now to mean they went to the car and he got head for $36 dollars [amount explained momentarily haha]) and supposedly brought these MEN’S GOLD CHAINS in for this FEMALE to possibly purchase.
I need to add that he repeatedly kept telling me “I didn’t cheat” although I hadn’t and didn’t ask even once if he had and finally told him that he was making it seem like he was feeling really guilty of cheating by continuing to refute an unasked question.
That explanation happens to get even better a couple days later but after telling me this awesome excuse for why he had gotten her number – to follow up on her buying these – and why they had been in touch – 50 text messages in ONE DAY for her to tell him (must have been repetitively) why she was without the funds to do so but was still planning to; their discussions, according to the caught liar who continued to lie himself into a steaming pile of unbelievable shit, were “about her son, her mother, and her car.”
He also tried to congratulate himself on having brought me up to her because she has a Mercedes that is broke down and I drive a Mercedes but I didn’t care for him talking to her about me anymore than I appreciated his lies.
Now I desperately WANTED to believe that he wasn’t lying to cover his lies and that he was speaking the truth, how I was making this make any sense in my head is beyond me, and nearly believed him – I HAD to believe him for him to NOT BE LYING TO ME! I think it was made worse by how poorly he was lying and that he didn’t put any (and even made his lying more apparent) effort into making his lies believable. Anyway he had pulled the wool over my eyes for the time being and we returned home and had sex (gotta keep him satisfied so he doesn’t go elsewhere to “Marilyn,” right? Yeah, I know I’m pathetic) and went to bed.
Now I had LOTS of questions to followup with the next day. After turning things over in my head and recounting the amount of messages and discovering that he was still in contact with her after saying he would not have anymore contact with her, I was no longer feeling so convinced of the whole MEN’S GOLD CHAINS being attempted to be sold to a FEMALE and that even if it were true there was no necessity for days of multiple phone calls and texts. To top off my suspicion of his fictional recounting of the necessity and substance of this communication he, I swear it hand to GOD, gave me a new explanation of how they met!
Yeah, the next day or the one after that, he came into the living room and announced, very triumphantly, that she had actually offered to sell him an apple watch for, bet you guessed it, 36 dollars (supposedly the remainder of the cash he had on hand is what he offered, my take, again, is that this payment was for a blowjob but I’ll likely never know)!! Now, this was the new way they started the conversation and the new reason for getting her phone number (eventually he melded the two tales together, very crafty eh lmao) was so she could buy back the watch from him and THAT is what they’d been talking about (as well as the MEN’S GOLD CHAINS he put together after a few awkward questions from my befuddled and overwhelmed self yet I now didn’t know what made him think someone hawking their apple watch would want to BUY [men’s] jewelry). So, ON TOP OF already lying to me he threw a hail mary new nonsensical explanation for his having been conversing with this female. He did show me the watch to verify his second story (I now believe she’d dropped it in his car and he’d worried I’d noticed it the night we’d talked) and he seemed to feel pretty good about this new story. My attempt to get answers as to which happened first and how he “saw her wearing a lot of jewelry” when she “sat next to him” made sense when she was willing to part with an expensive-to-my-knowledge watch he now deemed that to have happened after their first meeting. I could very clearly recall him stating he “met her when she was trying to sell her apple watch around the casino” when he announced the scenario…my head was spinning also.
Now, I can think of tons of situations in which he had gotten another females number and been texting and calling her basically nonstop for days, none good, but TONS that would make some sort of sense. I could even come up with the bullshit story that he’d been talking to this person’s boyfriend and they happened to share a phone – I used to share a phone with my exes which he knew so if he’d tried to put any thought into this he’d have realized that would be relatable (google search says it is a word stupid red squiggles) and understandable (if I forgot that he’d been deleting the conversations that is but honestly anything semi-believable sounding would have worked) and would have made me feel like the idiot he’d made me out to be when I confronted him. But, alas no, he made no attempt to make his lies even seem logical. Now truth can be stranger than fiction, I know he reminded me, and the last part of the quote says “fiction has to make sense. Reality of course does not” so there is the possibility of it being true if he hadn’t pulled out the watch story for absolutely no reason as to why they were in contact after it was initially because she was wearing a lot of jewelry when she sat down by him so he was selling her (say it with me!) MEN’S GOLD CHAINS.
If you’re still bearing with this elongated telling of my, probably a bit more understandable, reason behind relapsing, thank you and it gets brilliantly worse for me.
So, less is more, he’s lied, he’s sneaking some sort of relationship (yes I can call it that because they were developing a comfort with each other that wreaks of probably more that I’ll likely never know) with another female behind my back and covering his lies with more lies, I suck at less is more, and then shuts down. He refuses to reiterate things he felt he’d already answered even when I was asking for information that he had not been forthcoming with prior. He watched me cry and blame myself (a tactic I tried that DID NOT work AT ALL) and said he wouldn’t be in contact with her anymore, after he’d already said so and failed to do so once at this point. He was getting angry WITH ME for not just GETTING OVER IT and this little nugget pops up:
Incoming text: “If you don’t message me or call me back I’m going to send you some nudes.”
Check the phone’s usage and low and behold he WAS STILL TEXTING AND CALLING HER.
I decided to take matters into my own hands and call her myself. He tackled me and tried to pry my phone from my hands when he realized what I was doing. He told me that if I called then I would need to find a new living situation. I had to leave an out-of-breath-yelling-at-the-grounded-phone message of my name and to call me back at my number because I was confused as to her communicating with my boyfriend. Now, if he had nothing to hide (yes I get it was very obvious he did) then why all the theatrics of threatening to break up with me rather than just letting me find out from this person that I was being insecure and making an ass of myself. She called back and, for the first time ever, he answered my phone before I could get to it and she hung up. So, I wasn’t giving up – at this point I was already homeless and dumped according to him so I really had nothing to lose – and I took my phone and text messaged her. I’m not good at being sneaky one bit so he figured out my scheme very quickly but I was able to get a few questions in with responses back. Remember, he’d just spooked her by answering my phone and he was cockily proud of that apparent by the smug look on his face.
L: “How do you know [my man’s name]?”
“M”: “Why is that any of your business?”
L: “Well he is my boyfriend and you’re threatening to send him nude pictures of yourself.”
“M”: “I didn’t say that you must have misread it.”
I even stopped to rethink what I’d read and, honest, contemplated if I had misread an easily readable text and made something up in my own head that was false. Thankfully, I caught myself falling into old patterns of uncertainty of my sanity – which he’d made difficult to decipher reality from being duped and sent me to a psych ward when I’d nearly caught him cheating previously (Why stay? Well I’m in love with the asshat which is super important compared to being given any inkling of respect or honesty in return and I have no place to go except my car, I have tried and failed at leaving [being kicked out for a week] because of my lack of money, no affordable housing, and severe disdain for change.) – and reassured myself that I had seen what I had seen and he’d even acknowledged the message as saying so, so my confidence in my knowledge was restored.
L: Huh. Well are you trying to sleep with [my man’s name]?
“M”: “Hell yeah. And I want you too.”
Possible sarcasm, likely, but when I tell my boyfriend what she said she said, “Yes.” Of course that was trying to elicit some honesty and kind of worked actually, a month later though.
L: “Since you know about me then why are you trying to cause problems by getting involved with him?”
“M”: “It’s not your business. I don’t want to continue this. Go spend your time cleaning or cooking something. Haha.”
And I was so stricken by her knowledge of our, as far as I was aware, ONLY issue being my lack of cleaning out our back rooms and my hate of cooking and inability to not burn everything, besides steak but damnit once actually that did happen once as well, I tried to prepare thus my lack of cooking also, that I just politely asked her to not contact my boyfriend further.
“M”: Go clean or cook something and mind ya business. Mind ya business.”
L: Nothing I was so hurt that he’d not only done all of the expressed above BUT HAD ALSO COMPLAINED ABOUT ME AND OUR RELATIONSHIP TO HER.
**I’d like to acknowledge that I know I have some glaring flaws but I do clean the floors and the bathroom/living room/kitchen. I just don’t know how to reduce my clothing any further (I’ve taken over 5 full large garbage bags to Goodwill in the past year with clothes and shoes) and we don’t have shelves or a dresser so clothes are just stacked and the other room I don’t know where to start getting rid of stuff BUT WE HAVEN’T USED THOSE ROOMS IN THE 3 YEARS WE’VE LIVED HERE for anything but storage/closets. I’m also the only one who got rid of the cockroach, ewww, problem and keep up spraying for them. I’d say maybe he was sick of my neediness and him providing for me but at the time of the step-outtance I had gotten my own car, had a job, was paying my half of rent and filling our NOS and black and mild addictions and was SOBER for over a year (with one very short relapse). Just defending myself a little bit after outing my deficiencies as outed by the ever-wonderful and grandly appreciated sweet, sweet “Marilyn.”**
I know and knew 20 minutes later what I should have asked but I’d lost my gall and had to get to an appointment with my treatment provider (monthly one on one sessions).
My boyfriend seeing how deflated the texting had made me PROMISED this time that he wouldn’t call or text her again. While I was at my one on one pouring my open-wound-having heart out to my counselor he had about an hour’s worth of conversation between 3 different calls with her, I was crushed even more so finding that out.
After that she has text once but he blocked her number afterward and as far as I can SEE there has been no continued communication, at least not with that number. I did overhear a conversation between him and his best friend bringing up how surprisingly cheap phones went for at Walmart which he’d denied having knowledge of when I’d brought it up after.
I spent a week down and out and bitching and asking questions that he refused to answer telling me he’d told me everything he was going to tell me and that there was nothing more to tell. I have no doubt in my mind he was confusing himself with his lies and what she, by my account, told me via text the following day (there wasn’t any further texting with her, from me at least, but I pretend) and couldn’t bring himself to get caught in more lies by answering something I asked in contradiction to what he’d already said. He expected me to just drop it and get over it and would just take off, or threaten to, if I didn’t drop it. Also he said sorry and then nearly immediately took it back by justifying his actions as “trying to make some money” numerous times. He was only “sorry” that he’d gotten caught so quickly, and in my hopeful delusional mind I caught him before any sex stuff happened…except that damn parking lot blowy for $36 I’ve mentioned but have not gotten confirmation of it taking place so still holding out hope, lol, not really. So after a week of fruitless prodding I gave up and we moved forward with me not mentioning it any time again soon after.
But see, I was learning “relationship communication ‘tactics'” in my treatment from my counselor. He was pretty much teaching us how to turn negative conversations to the positive by flipping the script on the other person unexpectedly and demonstrated on a distraught daughter of a constantly bitching mother, which failed miserably but sure was entertaining.
So a month later I took what I learned from my counselor and research I’d been doing on the internet and used it on my boyfriend. IT WORKED!!
He confessed that she had been getting the wrong idea (no admittance of fault on his part however) and was making assertions of having sex with him and had been complaining about and telling him she wasn’t having sex with her boyfriend. He admitted he had lied, not about anything specific but more of an “include-it-all” kind of admittance (he has since tried to stand by his stories, contradictory as meeting someone for the first time twice is, and still uses the justification of making money whenever mentioned [it is the cause of everything falling apart not brought up until 2 weeks ago beyond that]). He was apologetic and remorseful and telling me that he fucked up. I just sat there listening letting him say as much as he would say. He said that they’d had inappropriate conversations and that is why he deleted the messages and calls as well as because he knew I wouldn’t like him talking with another female (yeah you may call it insecurity but I call it KNOWLEDGE and EXPERIENCE teaching me nothing good comes from either person in a relationship getting someone of the opposite sex’s [or same sex’s if that is your preference] number and carrying on with said female or male [especially when hiding it]). He then snapped and started cursing me and telling me that I wanted things that he didn’t (none of which was true except marriage but I’ve told him it’s not a must do as I’ve already done it) and what kind of therapy bullshit did I just pull on him. He wasn’t happy with coming clean and he hadn’t even scratched the surface or been satisfyingly, for me, honest or forthcoming. I still just sat there and he went between that mess and apologizing without admitting anymore wrongdoing.
That is where this whole debacle should end right?
But no because I knew he was still not telling me something important and I couldn’t seem to get past it and move on knowing he was still lying to me. I tried. I didn’t bring it up (except to say [air quote] “the Marilyn incident” [air quote] when referring to when things took a shitty turn for us) in the months following (I did ask a couple followup questions that were not well received the following day though which he still holds against being honest with me about certain things) until I get a horrible gut wrenching ache that tells me something isn’t cool with something going on with Maurice. Come to, yes I spied not proud, find out he was talking to “that one from last week” about “moving into the place she gets but she put emphasis on the ‘rent a room’ part like nigga you ain’t moving in WITH me.” Now why was this new female having to CLARIFY that he wasn’t moving in WITH her and WHY WAS SHE OFFERING HIM A PLACE AT ALL WHEN WE HAVE AN APARTMENT?! Also, this brought back the remembrance of the “Marilyn” issue not having been resolved.
So to sum up the newest addition to unknown-to-me females in my boyfriend’s life when I asked him about it he didn’t even bother trying to lie he just refused to answer because I’d gained the knowledge through “espionage” and could just find my answer through further “spy tactics.” I realize its just another lame excuse to avoid truth telling but I get that it is violating to have private information known that you weren’t wishing to be known. And that when backed in a corner people will throw around blame and denials to avoid the actual problem. There is more to that conversation I’ll dive into in stories as well. He did eventually try to say that he didn’t know her and that she was some stranger that was looking for roommates yet where this lacking-truth conversation took place was forgotten by him and no further explanation of any of the particulars were given. “That one from last week” (direct quote) tells of there being previous discussion of said person to the best friend, Aaron – he’ll come up throughout and I don’t want to keep lamely saying best friend [of my boyfriend] so remember who Aaron is!!! Jokes I’ll not leave you wondering but now you know he’s got a name.
So, I tell you about this new girl to segue to provide a rationale for bringing up “Marilyn” again after so long. Firstly, the wound was unable to heal and therefore I wasn’t getting past the issue while desperately trying to “accept the thing I cannot change” and go forward. Secondly, the wound was ripped back to completely open and another was added when I found out there was another hidden interaction with a female and that this one had led to moving-in discussion.
I sent an email about my feelings and those topics were main points within my sharing. I’m not a wuss it’s just that talking with him seemed to be going nowhere fast and it let me get all my desired thoughts out without interruption or dismissal (of course he could stop reading which would kind of be both) by him. I ended up sending emails for a week straight ending just 11 days ago actually and did, along with me hammering my reproach of his continued lies and avoidance of issues he created after he’d read them, bring about some honesty.
He honestly is not going to be honest until he is ready and feels safe to like I wasn’t honest about things (while high) until I was ready (got sober). He feels like it will just give me more to be offended by and I’m guessing he doesn’t want to be the bad guy who did the offense more than he really cares about my feelings being hurt more. I mean in reality postponing and dragging this out further is about the shittiest thing he could do to me – I want it over and done with, I want to get the truth of what he’s been doing and talking about with other females behind my back (why would be nice but not necessary) (he could just come up with good lies at this point really) and then I want to deal with the hurt that may come, or whatever emotions I end up feeling, and move on without another word about it, I don’t even want to ask questions anymore. After typing all that out I’m in a better head space already about it – not okay with his actions by any means – just feeling like I’ve expressed my annoyance and frustration creatively and somewhat wholly so a bit of the burden has been let go.
Okay now that I’ve told you the story of my reason for relapsing I’ll get back to the point of what, from that, caused my relapse. As I had said at the beginning overwhelmingly painful emotions flooded me as I was devastated at finding out for sure that my boyfriend is willing to lie to my face and interact with other females inappropriately seemingly without legitimate remorse. This being the second worst thing to happen to me in life, after my kids getting abducted and my custody being taken which is not comparable whatsoever but is by far the worst thing to occur in my life, and to suffer through the discomfort and distress his betrayal brought me while sober seemed too much to endure (I realize people deal with far worse things sober everyday this is something that, for me, was life-shattering and something I didn’t want to actually face). The disappointment and despair I felt having the person I’d trusted with my life and health and hopes and fears and insecurities, the man I thought of as my best friend and partner in life, knocked from the pedestal I’d created for him and proven to be a lying, manipulative, callous person (and not just toward anyone but regarding ME and our relationship) especially after having been at, what I believed, was a really good place in our relationship when he decided to do this.
All in all I was too much a coward to face life on life’s terms and to actually feel unpleasant emotions so I pitifully ran away to avoid reality. And until now I was just perpetuating my eluding dealing with reality by every couple weeks picking back up for a few days since October 19th 2018 when I relapsed because I was copping-out of the hard parts of living.
I don’t blame him for my relapse, my new resentments however he does get credit for and is the star of!
Relapsing, though, was a choice I made knowing, and apparently accepting, the repercussions of doing so and a decision to stay stuck in denial and evade accepting reality. The amelioration I’d achieved in my sobriety didn’t hold a candle to my deviously duplicitous addict mentality I have demonstrated. This time around I want to work for/on and develop/achieve strength of character, true grit, perseverance, strength of mind, and the ability to live life on life’s terms.
After some research I’ve realized that the above
This blog is definitely beneficial to my continued sobriety.
Thank you!

P.S.
My boyfriend is a good guy and, as you will come to see in stories, he’s dealt with A LOT of bullshit and stuck by me in some of the most impossible situations. I’m not condoning the aforementioned behavior but he’s the reason I’m alive and able to get sober today. I’m sharing my life and in turn his life but all through my point of view; just don’t forget that there is another side to every story.

 

Posted in liFe on liFe's TerMs, recovery

Day 1 – ready or not.

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