Insanity crept in
My plate wasn’t too full to blog last week. My mind was. Funny thing about being an addict, it doesn’t seem to matter how long I’ve been sober, there will be times life will test my sobriety and as I wrote this last week, I was in that time.
I’m emotionally hurt. A damaged soul who, even with the proper tools at hand, can’t always right the ship immediately. It can take some time to process the hurt and even longer to recognize the pain even exists. And in this case it had for some time. It’d been building for weeks.
Days ago, I couldn’t have put my thoughts into coherent sentences. My mind was too muddled and confused. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to drive fast, sit on the edge of the seat on roller coasters (literally), and take crazy chances. I just knew I needed to be reckless. I wanted to fill a void but didn’t know why. I craved to feel some kind of rush and that’s dangerous for an addict.
After reflection, I know the whys (there are several) and I have to figure out how to emotionally fix it. It doesn’t matter that common sense tells my addicted brain how stupid and irresponsible it would be to act out. Will I? Probably not. But that doesn’t stop my brain from fantasizing about numbing my pain by getting high. What a relief it would be…at least temporarily.
What I find fascinating is that if you saw me strolling down the street, you’d never know. I look fine. I look normal. I smile, I chit chat with my co-workers and hold the door open for strangers. But inside I’m tormented. I’ve thrown up my white flag of surrender.
The chinks in my armor are showing. The cement wall of my recovery has become a sheer curtain. I can reach through and ruin my sobriety in an instant.
I’ve done the right things to keep me on the sober path; I’ve reached out to a program member, I’ve talked to Devin about the seriousness of the situation, I’m journaling, I pulled out my affirmation cards (those things are so awesome) and am going to hit up an NA meeting.
The insanity lifts a few days later
I was sitting in the car dealership waiting for my repair to be finished when my phone rang. Unknown number. Normally I would’ve ignored it. My gut (God) told me to answer it. It was a program call. A newbie in distress. God put her in my path for a reason. I listened to her as I drove to the tobacco store to start my newest addiction. Vaping. It’s better than cigarettes. And it’s definitely better than drugs, folks.
We shared many of the same experiences, past drug addictions being one of them. She recently suffered a relapse and hearing her utter those words scared the ever-living shit out of me.
Relapse. How easy it is to fall back into.
I was grateful to have been sitting in the parking lot of a tobacco store and not downtown trying to score blow, speed, meth, or whatever else I could get my hands on at the moment. It very easily could’ve been my next stop; I was feeling that low.
Not only did hearing her tale scare me, it humbled me. It sobered me. More than any meeting I could’ve sat through.
So, I did what I would’ve told any sponsee: go back to the basics. I took care of me: I read (a very funny read by the way); I studied program material; I worked on my sequel; I watched mindless comedies and reality television; I took some time off from chores and cooking and accepted help from Devin and the kids. Most of all, I talked to Devin. I shared why I felt such tremendous pain. And that was healing.
Funny. I was going to forgo counseling for a while to save some money. Think I’ll skip the hair salon instead.
Grey hairs are better than a black soul.
I’m looking forward to a much better week. You?