Dust bunnies of doom

Old habits suck. I've cleaned house mentally but still these dust bunnies of doom keep creeping back in. It wouldn't be that bad, but dang, there seems to be a bazillion of em. They're itchy and bitchy and I just have to keep sweepin em out I guess.
It's funny. I used to think, how can I ever manange life without these people, these parties, these drugs, this mindset. But know, how the fuck did I make it out alive? Can't imagine ever inviting that back in, not even for tea.

boredom

Not working is just about the most boring thing, other than proffessional fishing, I can think of. Not to mention being broke sucks. I am really begining to regret coming back here.

breaking up is hard to done

No more Nick in my life. Is for the best. I am fine to let her believe she has made this choice, it's easier this way. Who wants to hear, hey you are a fucking meth head who's used my wallet to supply your habit over the last few years while I stand by and make excuses to others. She gave me my first taste. Of all of it. First coke. First crack. First meth. Whatever. My addiction is not hers. I do not blame her for it. I own it. It lives in me. It consumed me. It still does. But I want out. Leaving her behind is a requirement if I am ever going to be able to live my life without drugs and alcohol.
Had a break down last night. Went to speak with her, didn't go so hot. Ended up crying my mascara away for nearly two hours. Ran down my cheek into the beer that had appeared before me. I drank and drank and drank. Picked up a buddy to help hide the shame of being alone. Drank even more. Scored some coke. Did the entire ball. Drank even more. Saw the good people, the ones I stay way from when I am in full on addict mode. Closed the bar. Started the after party. Not too sure about what all happened and exactly when, but by the end of morning, I found myself weeping while three friends attempted to keep me from biting my hands so hard that today they are swollen twice the size and bruised badly. I have not been in that low of a place in a very long time. I know if these people had not been the good that they are, I would have severely hurt myself. I have not had these feelings. I do not know what to do with them.

Where is David?

I just got done having dinner with two of my favorite people, J & J. They are wonderful. Always a good time seeing them. Plus, J can cook! Any who, so I figure I'll swing by D's and see what he be up to. But he is no where to be found. Most likely playing pool somewhere, or drinking. Actually, probably, both. This sucks. Not that I mind hanging here alone, not at all. But, just means if I want to track his ass down, I'll have to visit a bar. No bueno for me. Can't be at a bar alone. Can't be trusted by myself. Especially knowing I have money. Especially knowing who else will most likely be at these establishments. Can't do it. So if you get home and read this David, I have most likely headed back to the burg and will try and get a hold of you tomorrow.

why does every moment have to be so hard

Best friend is mad. Mad but no bueno. Every action has a reaction. And sometimes, the worst is best to come. So I told her you're a methhead. Big deal. Own your shit. So he likes me more, not my fault. So sometimes the hardest things to admit are the most obvious.

Rehab Redo

I was in rehab at the end of January for eight days. Too many drugs, too much alcohol, far too much indulgence. I left before my stint was over and I immediately got fucked up. I mean within minutes.

I spent the next few weeks continuing to ruin my life, but this time I kicked it up a notch. Or rather downgraded my entire life by using meth. I had done crack, coke, and all the others, but this one would have my life. I woke up one day in the house of a stranger and couldn't recognize my reflection. I drove home and immediately started calling detox facilities. I knew that if I didn't get myself help that day, I would be lost. I finally found a locations and made arrangements to check in that late afternoon.

Then I had to do what I had only done once before, contact my parents. My parents, who had be under the assumption that I left the previous treatment center due to staff issues and religious conflict. They were also under the impression I was no longer using or drinking as much as I previously had. My mother sobbed. She left work and came home immediately. I shut off my cell phone and contacted only my closest of friends, packed and headed out to reclaim my life.

I went through the worst withdrawal I have ever had. Convulsing, vomiting, coughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Headaches, stomach pain, bloody nose, and the worst, and best part, not being able to use to stop it.

I stayed in detox for four days. I then enrolled myself in an IOP program locally, as well as seeing a counselor to deal with the issues that caused me to become and addict in the first place. And I am going to NA and AA meetings as often as possible.

Some people don't think addiction is a disease. They think, hey, just stop already. But it is anything but that simple. Would I choose to loose my job because I couldn't go in due to the fact that I had yet to go to bed? Would I want to wake up a random houses, not know how or why I was there? Would I knowingly pick to drain my bank account of thousands of dollars to support a habit that will lead only to and institution, prison, or death? These are not the choices of a well person. Addiction is a disease and must be dealt with accordingly.

So what makes this time different for me? What is going to make it stick? I guess that would be the hardest, and most important thing that I finally did. I have admitted to myself that I am an addict. Hey, only eleven more steps to go.

Frayed

This is the email I just sent to a friend who has doubts about my attempt at rehabilitaiton:

I appreciate your frankness. But know this, I do not require acceptance of my life by anyone. I do not need to prove anything at anytime. And you are right. True friends will be there. They will not judge, or chastise. They will listen, encourage, and love no matter how many times I falter.

I do not count myself as inwardly dishonest. I know my issues. I face every day trying to control an addiction that has attempted to kill me. There are no words to convince and convey the depth of control addiction has over an addict. Each day is harder than the next. I don’t sleep. I can barely get out of bed. I weep everyday for the harm I have caused the people I love. And I will never forgive myself for the irreversible self-inflicted wounds. I do not tell you this to provoke pity. I tell you this so you may better understand my current state of mind.

Often, I feel only a fellow addict can ever know the true nature of power this disease possesses. Alcohol is the least of my worries. The fact that I have made a choice to never use again is monumental. Monumental to me and that is the only opinion that matters.

I have claimed my life. I own it. As do you yours. If you choose to discredit and abandon our friendship, so be it. I will not think poorly of you. Nor will I let it affect me. I consider my life better having had you in it.

Hopefully we will resolve to continue to be close.