I have a confession to make.
I’m an addict.
I chose to recover. Finally.
I bet you didn’t know that…. but I’ll drink to that. Lucky I’m not an alcoholic!
Well of course you didn’t, because most people I know in real life don’t know a fucking thing about me. I am very good at stealth. I learned from a young age to hide who and what I was because I was constantly called weird.
You fucking bet I’m a weirdo. It’s fantastic. I’m not here to be liked though… I’m here to make change. Waves. Give myself a name.
I do have a handful of GREAT people in my life who DO know me in my authenticity, but “not many, if any.. ” So it’s time I stepped into myself a little more and lowered my guards for good.
I carried my problems so well, and wore my mask from hell with such finesse that nobody could tell. Every person I’ve confessed my sins to recently has responded with “What the fuck, REALLY? I had no idea.” Then a congratulations. ❤
Just the same as when I walked away from my ex partner……. I’m blowing my cover. So I can never go back. I want to make sure that I’ll be harshly judged if I ever relapse. I’m making a safety net, in case I fall.
It was only Mary Jane. I didn’t fall out of love with her, I just suddenly snapped into reality and realized I was wasting my life. My money, (what fucking little I did have) and my brainpower. My lungs were heavy and I wasn’t feeling healthy. I’m too young to die of a disease I gave myself.
Medicating myself and numbing myself to deal with the reality of my life, was not a sustainable solution. The reality is that I’m 99% on my own. Alone.
But I choose to be alone. I wanted this, and I am happier this way.. (for now). I’m an ambivert and I crave both solitude and the spotlight. I’m made of conflict and chaos. I actually love it though. The apocalypse has passed now, and I’ve come through the dark and into the light. I am the light. I don’t need drugs to mask myself anymore.
I don’t need to be numb. I’ve definitely caused some permanent damage during the 19 years I smoked myself into oblivion. Or maybe it’s a permanent enhancement, because I laugh just the same way and with the same enthusiasm as when I was high as fuck. My short term memory hasn’t recovered, and I don’t know that it ever will. Lucky I’m a huge fan of lists anyway. I’ll work my way around it.
Sometimes I wonder how great I would have been if I hadn’t decimated my potential from the age of 14.
I stayed high. The only times I was able to quit was when I was planning to get pregnant. The love I had for the children I didn’t even know were coming to me yet, was strong enough to shake that addiction…. but only for a little while.
That familiar tap on my shoulder would always happen, and I’d turn back to Mary… fall into her arms and lose myself all over again. Enduring the abuse my partner drowned me in surely wasn’t helping me to find sobriety.
I still love Miss Mary. I still kind of want her… but I want to never be lost again. I don’t miss her as much as I thought I would.
I turn away. Not because I particularly wanted to (although, really… I do). I turn away because I NEED to. This was a financial decision. My sobriety is a powerful gift to my children. Although I was able to function highly and parent effectively in the midst of my issues……….. I know now that I can give them even more without the slavery of addiction fucking me up.
I used it like the antidepressants that made me so sick. I couldn’t take them, and so I turned to a more herbal solution. The benefits of THC are not to be sneezed at… but when it becomes out of control and enslaves you- that’s a problem.
I don’t have to worry about running out of weed. I don’t have to worry about getting caught. I don’t have to worry about chasing it down, or paying for it, or hiding it and protecting my kids from my bad decision. I don’t have to be a hypocrite when they reach their teens. I can tell them about how bad it will fuck them up, and how I QUIT FOR THEM.
This sounds terrible, but I know a LOT of people will resonate with this.
I’m 26 days clean. Free of the smokescreen. It’s still early days, but even the re-escalation of my abusive ex partner hasn’t shaken my commitment to recovery. The universe tests me and I stand strong.
Detox was brutal. Physically. I would wretch if I tried to eat, and when I did…… my body would expel it before I could even absorb any nutrients. I’m not sure how much of it was anxiety related and psychosomatic….. but the symptoms of detoxification were very tangible.
Sweats. Shakes. Jittery feelings. Restlessness. Insomnia. Indescribable internal conflict. Having done this before though, I knew that it’d be over in 10 days or less. I set a goal of 28 days minimum. I still have my trusty cigarettes, and also a vape pen which have been lifesavers. I minimize the use of cigarettes as much as I can, for health and financial reasons. Lowest dose of nicotine I can get.
I know that I’ll definitely enjoy a smoke again in the future one day… but I also know that I cannot be in possession of any amount for any time. I can’t justify it. I can’t risk slipping back into a habit of dulling my senses in an effort to cope.
Anyway, reality isn’t so bad after all. Turns out I’m a fucking badass, who’s able to overcome pretty much any obstacle, so long as I choose to. Pride in my stride, pep in my step.
I’m committed to becoming my highest self- without even getting high. I’m high on achievement. On satisfaction. On my rising bank balance. Sure, it still dips pretty low, but I’m finally able to apply myself to making that a thing of the past, now that I’m not walking around in a haze, unable to really focus on anything except how good being high feels.
Sobriety feels pretty good too.
I liken this to turning my back on a man that I love, but know is bad for me. I’ve done that fucking plenty. Sir was the meth of mankind. He was ruining me in insidious ways. I was able to let him go, (when he threw me away. AGAIN) even if I have to write about it and rehash his fuckery often. I’m detoxing him, too. He had me in his grips for far too long, and he didn’t even want me that bad. He knew nothing about me except how nice my body felt against his.
He was right. It did feel good. Destruction usually does.
I wasn’t sure I should write this, but as usual, it’s the things that make me cringe that will inevitably help someone else to have that motherfucking moment of transcendent soul shattering REVELATION.
So I blow my cover, instead of my money, and my health. I do it for myself, and I do it for you too. You who’s probably going to roll a joint after reading this, and contemplate your own relationship with drugs. You’re welcome.
Lack of connection, lack of love, and lack of self respect led me down that path. Connection to my higher self, love for myself and my family, and the growth of my self respect will lead me all the way back.
I will always be in love with Mary. There’s just something about her, as the movie suggests. I know I will always kinda love bastards who treat me like shit. It’s how I’m built, conditioned, and it’s the way it is. I’m comfortable with pain and destruction. It was ingrained into me almost from birth. Knowing this will serve me well, and remembering that I get to choose who and what I allow into my bloodstream and my life.
So I say goodbye to Mary, and say hello to myself! If you’re recovering too, give me a FUCK YES. I’ll support you. Call for help. You can call on me.
If you’ve failed before, I have too. We can sit around and smoke menthol cigarettes and experiment with different flavoured vaporizers. At least that shit won’t lead us to the inside of a prison cell, or perhaps just a prison in our own minds.