What now ...(9)
I will do my best to be as transparent as I can. While we were mourning the loss of Blake. And I say "we" because I will not belittle the fact that I was not the only one who suffered. With that said. I will not speak for anyone other than myself. So its not a disregard towards others. It's my journey.
I did not have the life skills to deal with this pain. I was looking for relief. It was not a weakness. It is not a failure that I gave in to the crack pipe. Or I laid in bed for a month. Or the voices that haunted me got louder and stronger in my weakness, in my pain. I tried to admit myself in to a hospital because this is all I knew. I tried to talk to therapist that paid more attention to their watch than my situation. It got to the point that the first object I looked for when I walked into therapy was a clock. I knew if they looked at that clock one time I was leaving. I needed someone to give a damn on whether I lived or died. No one cared until I started using then all they did was shame me for using instead of trying to help with the pain. For me when I done bad everyone noticed but when I did good no one cared. Its so easy to point out the bad. From 2005 to 2009 I had a strong addiction to crack cocaine. I didn't get out of bed (if I even went to bed) unless I had rock. Or I was going to get dope. Always running. Always seeing if I could get away with driving past the police with a purse full of dope. No disrespect but lets be real. A big part of the addiction is getting away with it. The rush of thinking that we are invincible. The rush of feeling alive when the red and blues go off in your rear view mirror and then go around you. If it weren't illegal people we wouldn't do it. That was a huge part of my addiction. There was power in messing with the people I did. Because I was dancing with the devil. Extremely sticky situations that honestly I have no idea how I'm here today to tell my story. But by His grace. I had at minimum a 300.00 dollar a day habit. There were things I had to do for this habit that I am not proud of but I have been forgiven for. All respect for myself went out the window years before this happened. I was just an empty vessel that didn't mean nothing to no one anyway. Eleven days was my longest stretch of no sleep. Now you can probably imagine that this did not help my mental challenge. And you would be right. I destroyed every relationship I had. I had failed miserably. Way more than once. In 2009 I became homeless and alone because the man who loved me had enough. I cant blame him. I wanted to leave me too. But something happened on April 7th, 2009 that I will only explain by a Spiritual intervention. It shook me to the core and I went from everyday use to 180 days clean. I had smoked so much dope that I had to teach myself how to read and write again. How to tie my shoes. I was baptized. I found strength in Gods word because now I definitely knew that if no one else cared. God loved me enough to wake me up. To not let me suffer in my hell anymore. But to let me live. Even though I knew in my heart that sobriety was who I was now. Until my words lined up with my actions people still labeled me and thought I was full of it. I was a work in progress while still having my head held under water by people who refused to really see me living sober. I understand. Kind of like when you went to the bar and tied on a good one only to sleep by the toilet all night saying "I'll never drink again". Then Friday comes. There you are drinking again. When you say it so much to the people around you and you do not follow through with actions. Your words become meaningless. Addiction is a lonely road. The biggest fear was "What am I going to do with all this time I have?"
I did not have the life skills to deal with this pain. I was looking for relief. It was not a weakness. It is not a failure that I gave in to the crack pipe. Or I laid in bed for a month. Or the voices that haunted me got louder and stronger in my weakness, in my pain. I tried to admit myself in to a hospital because this is all I knew. I tried to talk to therapist that paid more attention to their watch than my situation. It got to the point that the first object I looked for when I walked into therapy was a clock. I knew if they looked at that clock one time I was leaving. I needed someone to give a damn on whether I lived or died. No one cared until I started using then all they did was shame me for using instead of trying to help with the pain. For me when I done bad everyone noticed but when I did good no one cared. Its so easy to point out the bad. From 2005 to 2009 I had a strong addiction to crack cocaine. I didn't get out of bed (if I even went to bed) unless I had rock. Or I was going to get dope. Always running. Always seeing if I could get away with driving past the police with a purse full of dope. No disrespect but lets be real. A big part of the addiction is getting away with it. The rush of thinking that we are invincible. The rush of feeling alive when the red and blues go off in your rear view mirror and then go around you. If it weren't illegal people we wouldn't do it. That was a huge part of my addiction. There was power in messing with the people I did. Because I was dancing with the devil. Extremely sticky situations that honestly I have no idea how I'm here today to tell my story. But by His grace. I had at minimum a 300.00 dollar a day habit. There were things I had to do for this habit that I am not proud of but I have been forgiven for. All respect for myself went out the window years before this happened. I was just an empty vessel that didn't mean nothing to no one anyway. Eleven days was my longest stretch of no sleep. Now you can probably imagine that this did not help my mental challenge. And you would be right. I destroyed every relationship I had. I had failed miserably. Way more than once. In 2009 I became homeless and alone because the man who loved me had enough. I cant blame him. I wanted to leave me too. But something happened on April 7th, 2009 that I will only explain by a Spiritual intervention. It shook me to the core and I went from everyday use to 180 days clean. I had smoked so much dope that I had to teach myself how to read and write again. How to tie my shoes. I was baptized. I found strength in Gods word because now I definitely knew that if no one else cared. God loved me enough to wake me up. To not let me suffer in my hell anymore. But to let me live. Even though I knew in my heart that sobriety was who I was now. Until my words lined up with my actions people still labeled me and thought I was full of it. I was a work in progress while still having my head held under water by people who refused to really see me living sober. I understand. Kind of like when you went to the bar and tied on a good one only to sleep by the toilet all night saying "I'll never drink again". Then Friday comes. There you are drinking again. When you say it so much to the people around you and you do not follow through with actions. Your words become meaningless. Addiction is a lonely road. The biggest fear was "What am I going to do with all this time I have?"
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