I’m here.

A plethora of major life changes has absorbed most of my time. Then I read Nic Sheff’s “Tweak.” I awoke to the thought that I am on the cusp of Relapse with such stressors swirling around me for the past year.

I don’t know exactly what I was looking for in his words. Whether it be affirmation that we [addicts] all eventually self-destruct no matter how many chips lay on the dusty top of your bureau, or some deterring fact about getting high that for some unknown reason you haven’t thought of yet- but I ended up discovering a bit of both.

sheffself destruct

So, “the big R” has remained a tenant in my mind for quite some time now. Not just with all the harmful chemicals, but also with my codependent tendencies. Hell to tendencies, more like life-long choices and consequences. After my last attempt at marriage, I decided it was time to be FREEbirds

This is the first time in my life being sober, along with being single, along with the pressures of being there for sick family, along with my dependent and heart-breakingly adorable puppy counting on me for everything, along with defining boundaries while no longer being able to see my therapist, and discovering strength in supporting myself.

My addiction tells me that this perfect storm is what We have been waiting for as an excuse to dive back into the depths of depravity.

“It’s like if the music is loud enough I won’t be able to listen to my own thoughts. ” ― Nic SheffTweak: Growing Up On Methamphetamines

I felt safe in a community of those who faced “the big R” and chose to save their strength for the next battle and bow down to the intense cravings. I wouldn’t be the scum of the earth to conveniently forget about my Healthy coping mechanisms. I could shoot up again and not have forfeited my right to exist in this recovering world! However, this novel did not strike me as supporting Relapse, but more the daily reasons to fight for sobriety even if “This time will be different.” The guilt and shame are the obvious front runners, but pride in oneself has always eluded me. I can be proud of myself, without a man or dope? An epiphany.


And then I tumbled. I do adore my Can Do attitudes most days- but when I tumble, I usually crash land.

So MJ has re-entered my life in a substitute for medications way. I crave passion in a dark and deep way. I am trust falling into the arms of my Addiction. He’s always there waiting for me. I think I’ve booted him to some exotic and fatal island, but then continue to realize he is my boomerang. My shoulders are heavy with caution and foreboding. I have not fallen to my knees in surrender, but my self persuasion techniques are wearing me down quickly.

I could never have a little of anything. Food, drugs, sex, exercise, dieting, anorexia, bulimia, traumatic self-inflicted situations, and spiraling out of control whether I have support from others or not. With CoDA meetings, authors like Nic, and music by The Weekend and Lana del Rey I might be able to fight “the big R” this round.scarslove

As always, I am still here. The pages of other’s struggles and cause for pride keep me hanging on. Stay strong


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