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If there is one thing I know how to do without a doubt, it’s fuck up my life. And that my friends is not a skill that can be turned into an asset. I won’t give up. They say to use is to die and I’m not sure about all that but I know using wasn’t solving any of my problems at least not long term anyway. Nothing will ever come close to the warmth in your chest when you slide that needle out of your neck. It may have been a while since I’ve pulled a needle out of my neck but that doesn’t mean that everything about it is healed. I’m at an NA conference with my new halfway house. I’ve ran into two people I used to get high with. One looks really good, the other looks like he/she has been through hell so I’m happy that when shit hits the fan this where he/she ended up. I’m alone and I’m empty, but I’m clean today. I can be grateful for that if nothing else. My selfish ass can’t help but think about how I’ll ever live without my emotional numbing medication. It hides even the worst of tragedies from me if only for a moment, it seems worth it. However, I’m destroying myself and those around me. My health was/is declining, my family has to be more important than that desire. This new halfway house is in Madison which is closer to Jess and my family. It’s called RCI. Recovery Community Inc. They made me quit my job. They said I don’t need to be in the serving industry for at least 3 months. I make too much money to fast apparently and there just happens to be dope there. Often times. It’s everywhere just more accessible in restaurants sometimes. So, I don’t have a job which makes me feel all the more worthless. My mind never stops bouncing in and out of using and not picking up. What a miserable place to be, mentally. There are some people that broke me in high school and even since then. Some that I’ll never forgive and I still wouldn’t wish this on them, on my worst enemies. This life means an uncertain death. When you’re using you know your breaths are numbered due to the dope slowly suffocating you. In sobriety they seem to be just as numbered only now it’s my own mind that is suffocating me. Living seems too hard at times. But I am not a coward. I’m a junkie, I’m a slut, I’m a liar, I’m a thief, I am scared, but I am not a coward. Things with my boyfriend went from beautiful to heart breaking so quickly I almost forgot why. I love him and I know he loves me so we are working past it whether or not this is his last chance, I won’t know until that time comes but things have gotten better almost just as quickly as they had gotten worse. And I am grateful for that, as well. He’s my support. He’s my heart. I’m not willing to let that go today. That’s all I want to say on that subject. It’s not even one o’clock yet and I’ve ran out of things to do to look busy. Pretty soon I’ll have losers hitting on me and kiss asses dragging me into activities. You know your appearance has taken a nose dive by the guys that his on you. I’m not sure If that comes across the way I want it to but, what the hell. Who do I really have to impress anymore? Sobriety has taken almost just as much as addiction did. In sobriety my parents took my car, my house director took my job, I don’t have a home, and I barely have a boyfriend, I suppose the friends I had out there weren’t real friends but they were there and now there is no one there, ever. If you’re trying to get clean, don’t take any of this to heart. I’m so grateful to not be waiting for the dope man in 30 degree weather. I’m so glad to have clean clothes to wear. I’m so happy to wake up without needing a shot to get out of bed. And I am aware that everything is going to be okay. It’s just making it to that point.
Things are okay today, almost. Everyday has it’s enemies. Sitting, waiting for the opportunity to take everything you’ve worked for, whatever that may be. More or less, it doesn’t matter because you worked for it. The miracle of this new lifestyle is I can choose not to play in the shadows with my enemies. I’ve been testing this new theory that if you come out of your room every once in a while, you meet new people. I’ve been trying not to be so shy. I find myself feeling stupid more often than not but, I also find myself laughing more than I have in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the trade off. I know if nothing else I need to learn to be comfortable with who I am and what I say, how I feel and how I look. I need to learn what is appropriate to be said as well, though. Doped up anything you say or do feels like flying so much so that you don’t give shit about those below you. All of a sudden, I care what people think, how I make people feel, what’s right, and what’s wrong. The beginning of this journey, you know “to recovery”, is going to hurt like hell, if I do it right. I have to let go and trust that through the pain I’ll unleash working the steps will come true serenity. I want peace, for the first time in my life. I want to be okay with being alone while at the same time being sure that’s not the only thing I do. Having fun with people in recovery but still keeping in mind that the 13th step will always be in the rooms. It doesn’t matter how sweet he’s talking, how great of a listener he is, or how many secrets he tells you. He’s still a candidate, whether he knows it or not. And of course that doesn’t mean they’re all like that. It just means its best to keep your shirt on, at least until, well actually I don’t know. I just have to be careful, at all costs. I need to focus on me. I need to attend more meetings. I need a job! And I need to let go of the resentment I’ve gained against the directors here. Whether or not it’s right doesn’t matter because they’re only trying to help me stay clean. And clearly, I can’t do that very successfully on my own. My boyfriend, or lack there of, is becoming more and more complicated. He wants sex and hell, so do I but I am in a halfway house! I say that so many time I could type it in my sleep. It’s like he forgets and all of a sudden thinks I’m refusing to see him. There is a side of it that is my fault. It takes me a little while to warm up to him when we hang out. I’m not sure why, mostly because I’m completely sober, but also perhaps it’s because I am far from comfortable with my body. He mentioned the other night hoe much better I look than I did when I was strung out, under weight, and so fucking lifeless looking. I have a hard time accepting that I might look better then than I do now but I’m trying to work on myself physically/mentally while remaining content with who I am at the same time. Regardless, I love him so much. And I’ll let you know if that ever changes. He got me this beautiful necklace for Valentine’s Day. We’re going to be okay. That’s it, for now.