First off, I want to apologize to all of the readers out there. I mean this from the bottom of my heart. This blog was my baby, and I had a lot of hopes and dreams of it becoming something special and bringing all of us together while allowing each writer to express themselves both creatively and emotionally. I have been completely absent on here since Sex Month back in June, and while I could say that I was busy with "more important shit," in truth I neglected my writing and commenting because I was lost in the depths of an intense drug relapse that ended with me shaking on a toilet uncontrollably in a seizure caused by an IV crack overdose. I want to make it up to you guys. I originally had an idea for this series that I would start writing about my time in day treatment rehab, chronicling each day as it was happening, but that proved too difficult, as there were a lot of things to take care of at that time and I didn't have enough time to really sit and concentrate and brood over my psychological neuroses that led to this relapse (I will talk later about how it wasn't even really a relapse, since I never totally gave up substance abuse in the first place). In any case, I will write about my road to recovery and happiness, away from the depths of polydrug addiction and depression and other woes, whenever the whim strikes me. My sincere wish is that this series will inspire others to share their own feelings of hopelessness, pain, and hope, and their own intellectual ideas about the nature of addiction and substance abuse, and how society deals with it.
I write this today while still sweaty from a brief workout at the gym, a place that I was paying $25 a month to be a member of even though I hadn't worked out there in almost two months (and I hadn't really consistently worked out in ever). This neglect of health and my interests symbolizes one of the most obvious facets of my substance addiction: it causes me to neglect the things that I am passionate about--whether they be my loved ones, my hobbies, and the things that I care about--because nothing is as important as getting loaded on whatever substance I find myself drawn to at the time. This is because these substances (for me, alcohol, opiates, cocaine, and meth/amphetamines) refuel the dopamine receptors (pleasure center) in my brain, which has lost the ability to maintain its own normal levels of dopamine through drug abuse and tolerance. I look back on my days of active use with disgust. Anyone who knows me knows that I have an obsession with cleanliness and health. How could I have gone days without showering, without brushing my teeth? Left my apartment in a squalid mess? Ate the kind of crap that I ate on a daily basis? I use this (Bethany would say OCD) obsession with cleanliness and organization, with health and strength, as a way to combat the self-destructive, yet soothing siren song of addiction that forever tries to creep up the walls of my consciousness and plant its egg of doubt in my dream of hope.
Let me try to backtrack here in our first entry to talk about how the last few months have been since my previous brush with opiates. It had been ten months since I had last gotten high on anything other than alcohol. I suppose on the surface, for someone not very educated on the topic of addiction, I was doing good, because drinking alcohol's a lot better than shooting heroin, right? When it comes to addiction, not really. Though I don't claim to have been at their level of dependency, I saw a great number of patients shaking and talking deliriously in the depths of their alcohol withdrawals when I was at rehab. Alcohol can suck your life and your wellbeing away just as fast as heroin can. In truth, my drinking was not as bad as my opiate use was in terms of how it affected my day-to-day life. It was probably worse for my health (alcohol being more of a toxin than opiates are), but I wasn't dead-broke and utterly physically dependent upon alcohol. I did begin to experience the symptoms of mild alcohol dependency towards the end of my ten-month binge, waking up in a bed soaked with cold sweat and piss, hands shaking uncontrollably, each day the same as the last. I wouldn't for a moment question whether I'm an alcoholic or not. I am one.
But most importantly, by continuing to abuse alcohol, I never really got rid of my addiction altogether. I never even really tried. I know that I acted all tough and optimistic a year ago when I was writing blog posts on here about how my life was going to change, but it was really all a bunch of bullshit. Yes, I really did believe those things. Yes, I did want to change. But I wasn't ready to take the necessary steps to get well. An addict can't go on using other substances like I was. An addict needs sober support. I can't just go to a therapist who I didn't even connect to and expect by doing that that my problems will suddenly up and disappear. What was most important with my drinking is that I retained the sly habits of an addict. I would lie about my drinking all the time, and hide it in shame after I told everyone that I was going to stop drinking (I did not have the strength to stop on my own without help). I would regularly get off from work at 5, alcohol having been on my mind all afternoon, drive to the nearest liquor store, and pour myself a very strong mix drink to drink on my commute home, already being drunk by the time I got out of the car at home. I blacked out almost every time I drank. Hangovers were an unfortunate part of daily existence that I had to learn to cope with. I cannot use any mood-altering substances with control. That is why I have learned I have to quit ALL mood-altering substances. That's how it is. I know it's hard for others to understand why I can't just have one drink, or drink socially, but I'm a person with the disease of addiction, and for me it's impossible.
Anyways, my drinking got worse and worse, to where I was occasionally drinking on my break hours at work, and, on weekends or off-days, drinking throughout the day starting in the morning. I went drunk to an ASAP (Alcohol Substance Abuse Prevention or something like that) class, which I was assigned to for driving under the influence in the first place. I was just drinking to shut my brain the fuck up. This isn't any different from shooting up cocaine or heroin or anything else. So really, my slip back into drugs was inevitable.
It started with some Percocets that I heard a friend was prescribed. I begged this friend for them, and offered them an exorbitant sum so that I eventually got them. I took all of the 20 pills in two different sittings over less than 24 hours, and wound up feeling slightly dopesick. My brain was again already hooked on the deadening warmth of opiates, something I hadn't even craved for months and months. My dad was prescribed them soon thereafter, and I stole large amounts of his, which he found out about, causing me even more pain and shame. Soon enough, I was back on heroin.
It is true what they say, that each relapse is darker than the previous one. Almost immediately (I knew this would happen, honestly), I was back at the same place I was before after months of using. I needed a big amount just to kill the withdrawals, much less get high. Every time I use again, there are more negatives and less positives. I stole money on a daily basis from work, pawned all of my prized possessions at home, and manipulated people I cared about to get drugs to shut my mind off. I don't regret my relapse and any of the actions it caused, because it made me who I am today and the suffering allowed me to hit a bottom that forced me into the treatment I've always needed, but I am deeply sorry to anyone I hurt or let down or manipulated in the throes of my completely selfish drug binge. I say this from the bottom of my heart.
Luckily by this point in my life I knew that I couldn't get out of this hole on my own. I knew that I needed help, and admitted as much to those around me. Although resistant to the idea at first, I ultimately knew that I needed more complete and organized treatment then I had received before. I needed to work the process that millions of addicts have worked before me so that they could get better: detox/rehabilitation, counseling, group therapy, sober support, and medication. I wasn't willing to do any of those steps before other than counseling, and that is why I never really got better. I will talk more about how treatment is going and went at the beginning in my next entries. I really truly have hope that this time I can finally slay this very real demon of addiction (please remember that addiction is never the root problem--something else always lies underneath, but what that is with me, I am not sure of at this time). But having hope without having a plan and support is a futile thing. I think I have all three right now.
One day at a time.
--Edward
PS: For anyone interested, my sober date is 8/26/11. As someone said in one of my meetings, I don't like to put too much focus on my clean time, since it is like you are counting down towards something that is going to end (these were his words, and although I don't truly understand them, I like what he had to say). For me, it just puts too much pressure on an abstract number that is ultimately meaningless. What matters is happiness.
Truly powerful post. I'm really happy about all the progress you've already made and you're right, you have a plan, support, and hope, which is just great. I can't wait for more updates to these posts, and of course, I'll be rooting for you all the way. Also, I can already tell the effects of your progress thus far, and it's really amazing the difference. You seem worlds happier and more positive. Keep it up!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment, buddy.
ReplyDeleteWelp, just wrote the longest comment in the history of comments to this, and my wonderful computer magically deleted the whole thing. New, reworked comment to come shortly...
ReplyDeleteYep, deleted comments are completely the norm with whatever type of program we used here. I would suggest to anyone in the future that if they are planning a long comment, to write it in Word then paste it onto here.
ReplyDeleteEdward...
ReplyDeleteOkay, so, wow, here goes...
Preface: Like I said, this is the new and reworked comment, which will undoubtedly be much shorter than the original, in that my photographic memory is not what it once was. I know whatever I have to say in regards to your entry can simply be said to your face and doesn't necessarily need to be published in an online sphere, but-- isn't there something to be said for the written word? For me at least, I seem to be able to journal my true feelings with a different sense of calmed ease and soul-baring honesty than I may be able to accomplish through the verbalization of my sometimes-wracked emotions.
So, onward and upward now... there is certainly quite a bit to take in, absorb, realize, and react to here. Words are really failing me, funnily enough, as they definitely did not fail you here today in writing this post. Just off the bat, that needs to be noted-- the quality of your writing in this post today is unparalleled in terms of your previous blog entries. I know you may not agree with this (or may not even care for the ego stroking I'm thrusting upon you at present), but, oh well-- I am inexplicably compelled to say that this particular post has a sense of honesty, emotionality, bravery, and finesse that I've yet to see from you before. Kudos for that.
Okay, now that my proverbial, and slightly envious and competitive (due to the high writing quality for which I am jealous), pat on the back is out of the way, I can really get into the meat of what was said. I find it deeply interesting that, although I was aware of about 99.9% of the things described within the contents of your post, it had a peculiar way of hitting me much harder than I'd ever expected. It truly moved me, as I'm sure it will move anyone out there who takes the time to read it (and preferably reread it, as the subtle nuances of a flawed man's relatable candor only begin to reveal themselves on the second read-through). Again, I knew these things were happening; knew they were happening because I was there for them. I was there for the "relapse;" I was there for the pawning, the stealing, the lying, the overdose, etc.... and yet it wasn't until reading this entry that I came to realize things on a very primally human and basic level.... a level that I definitely needed to reach myself.... a level wherein I finally understood that you (and at times, I) have spent the last two months teetering back and forth on a ferocious tight-rope walk between sobriety and addiction, hope and desperation, trust and manipulation, honesty and lying, intoxication and withdrawals, fear and fiendishness, self-awareness and self-destruction, and, ultimately, life and death (metaphorically, literally, symbolically, and all-encompassingly). I'm at once saddened by the fact that I was, at times, a part of this tight-rope walk (occasionally in the very worst of ways). But also, beyond that, I'm saddened that you were unable to really communicate to your loved ones as to what you were truly going through during the depths of your demonic addiction, leaving them completely befuddled and leaving you at odds with them for being uninformed. Basically, Edward, you must be very exhausted (in every single applicable sense of the word) to have gone through what you went through these last two months. And, trust me, I'm aware that you are grateful for what happened (or, at least do not regret it) because it led you to the path that you're now on today, but I still feel the need to say that I am very sorry for what you've been through. You are much stronger than you, and feasibly anyone else, has ever given you credit for. I feel compelled today to tell you that, at the very least.
Moving on, what I found most curiously and intensely fascinating through reading this a few times now, is the little parenthetical tease you included here: "I didn't have enough time to really sit and concentrate and brood over my psychological neuroses that led to this relapse (I will talk later about how it wasn't even really a relapse, since I never totally gave up substance abuse in the first place)." After reading the bulk of your program's literature at this point (specifically "The Relapse Syndrome" article), I see now what you mean by this. Though it seems unfair to be so harsh in terms of your damned efforts, I do agree that this most recent period of drug usage was not a "true" or "textbook" relapse in that there was never a cessation of intoxication (by binge drinking) of addiction-related thoughts and actions. This saddens me, to an extent, because it's definitely hard to imagine that you've now been a substance abuser for seven straight years (though I obviously relate in terms of some of my own issues that have now been going on for twelve plus years). I'm sure you're ready though, after spending nearly a decade shrouded in the darkness of addiction and abuse, to really do the work (the real work-- not the work that people just talk about to self-soothe and perpetuate cycles of denial), to tackle the beast at its buried roots. I'm genuinely excited and ready to be a true source of support for you at this point, which I'm afraid I may not have been at various times throughout this summer. But, again, this is about you and your recovery and what it will take to get you clean-- this isn't the Bethany show, and I'll save these thoughts for a time when I'm more willing (and, let's be honest, more ready) to honestly speak about my own road to recovery. Though, it can be (and needs to be, to ease my own guilty conscience) noted that you most definitely could have thrown me under the bus in various ways here in this post but didn't, and for that I wanted to thank you.
ReplyDeleteI believe that there is a segment in this entry that will strike a chord with any and all of your loved ones, your friends, and your readers if they should see it: "I...manipulated people I cared about to get drugs to shut my mind off. I don't regret my relapse and any of the actions it caused, because it made me who I am today and the suffering allowed me to hit a bottom that forced me into the treatment I've always needed, but I am deeply sorry to anyone I hurt or let down or manipulated in the throes of my completely selfish drug binge. I say this from the bottom of my heart." In all honesty, in the time I've really known you, I've yet to ever hear you profess an apology that is so very heartfelt and pure. This, above all else, causes me to believe that the current path to recovery you're now on is indeed the right one (for you). You seem, especially today, to be more apt and able to express an emotional empathy towards those that were directly and indirectly effected by your most recent drug usage in a very different manner than I've experienced in the past. This moment in your post, along with the cutting honesty throughout the entire piece, inspired me wholeheartedly. I now find myself believing in a lot today; something that I've been able to do less and less as of late, and for which I thank you for as you and your words seem to be the impetus. Firstly, I believe in you, Edward. I believe in your recovery, I believe in you having sought out formal treatment for your problems (something that people are rarely willing to do because they would rather "fix themselves" instead of go through the intensely painful and raw work involved with formal treatment... something that I'm now taking more seriously than ever before), I believe in you making your beloved lists (though I tease you for this as being OCD, I secretly know deep down that these are simply tools for your own personal sobriety and methods to invoke long-term and sustainable hopefulness, and maybe even happiness), I believe in the promising prospect of your future, and I believe in your loved ones, family members, friends, and readers now being able to connect with and understand you on a much more meaningful level after today, better allowing them to provide you with the support you needed all along.
ReplyDeleteYou're very courageous to have put yourself out there like this, and I definitely see it as a motivator for myself to become more honest about addiction, illness, and recovery. I also believe that those three things you mentioned are undoubtedly needed for rehabilitation (hope, planning, and support). And, most importantly, I believe you now have all three.
Ineffably, excitedly, and happily looking forward to your next entry on your "Road to Recovery,"
Bethany
Thanks for the comment. I don't really have much to reply back to here, since your comment really speaks for itself. I just hope that others read it, since you do a good job at explaining a lot of things. Way to post a better (and perhaps longer) comment then my entire post!
ReplyDeleteAs to throwing you under the bus...I'm not sure how exactly I would do that. As I've said many times before, no one ever influences my drug usage. When I say that, I mean it. I would never, ever, ever blame anybody else at all for my drug addiction, because I think that is a very cowardly thing to do, and even though I'm very much a coward and a frightened person (aren't most addicts?), I am disgusted when people try to blame their addiction on others. I believe one can't ever get well if they act like that.
Sorry for the absurd length, but, as I told you today, I was really, greatly inspired by the content of what you shared and the way in which it was written. Quantity doesn't equate to quality, and my rambling was more a product of my own obsessively excited thought patterns in response to the bravery you displayed on here today. Basically, I'm blaming the length on you, my friend!
ReplyDeleteAlso, others don't actually need to read what I said, obviously, as it was meant solely for you. But, yes, it would be nice to get some sort of back and forth going here in the comments... we all know I love a good open discourse!
And, thank you for that clarification, yet again... I seem to veer towards selfish means of blaming my presence during your usage as being a method of perpetuating said usage. But, I do agree with you in that no one can truly influence another's vices, even if they are actively trying. At the end of the day, ever choice chosen is one's own to make. You eventually chose recovery, and I couldn't possibly be happier about that.
This all has been very revealing, clarifying, and liberating from many standpoints, and I have loved reading it for those aspects. But also, I love the fact that it all points toward gathering a momentum that I think we all need in life to push on and take down whatever demons we face.
ReplyDeleteThat said, there is no way to describe the amount I want these beautifully articulated and mighty words to find themselves realized.
Here's to you both, the momentum you're gathering, and the next entry in DiMB and in life.