(no subject)
The process of quitting drugs is kind of terrifying. Last time I was sober, I was in a state of monotonous depression for months, that didn't seem like it would let up; that's what led me to relapse. I didn't see how it was better in any way to be sober; I was socially uncomfortable, personally insecure, generally miserable and lonely. It didn't feel like I had gained anything, but rather lost the only thing that made me comfortable. The nothingness was unbearable.
On the other hand, there's the possibility that you'll be hit with difficult circumstances or emotions and be entirely unprepared and overwhelmed - lacking the coping skills that you never developed, as well as the artificial coping device(s) that were used to replace them.
That's what seems to be happening to me this time, although by no means has it been long enough to consider this a significant attempt to get/stay sober. Already though, emotions are flooding in to replace the heroin that's being pushed out of my life. Good and bad feelings, so strong that I can feel them in the clench in my chest and the water in my eyes, waves that just come crashing without my having wanted or willed it. The most uncomfortable aspect is that I can't control the existence or intensity of my emotions, only choose the best way to go about dealing with them as they happen.
Such a huge part of my being wants to run straight back to medicating myself in the most illicit and severely stigmatized manner, just to avoid having to figure out how to deal with my natural reactions at full volume, without the pillow of heroin to stifle them. I'm being forced to face that yes, at some point before my descent into drug use, I was being treated strictly for psychiatric issues, and those have not gone away just because I've smothered them; in fact, they've probably festered and worsened into something more menacing and complex. I can't avoid addressing my emotions any longer without slowly committing suicide in doing so.
Unfortunately, although at times it's been a breathtaking privilege to experience the burning passion and rich emotion that I possess, it has too often just been an avalanche that bowls me over, completely disproportionate to the situation at hand and not necessarily appropriate as a way to react. The inevitable presence of impulsive decisions, attempted escapism, and helpless outbursts have, by now, shaped much of my past and my personality into this mangled, hastily patched up creation.
It feels as if the opportunities and obstacles in my life are delicate miniature houses in my path, and I am a reckless hurricane hurdling forward at an unstoppable speed. I want so badly to be composed and proportional, to ring the tiny doorbell and pass through the front doorway with ease, into the future, as if I belong there. However, I know this has never been an option for me. It's inevitable that even if I do my best to be gentle and rational, to a certain extent I will end up tearing apart what lies ahead of me, shredding expectations and creating the wreckage that I'm supposed to learn from, but never seem to.
I have been desperately avoiding any potential opportunities and obstacles by hiding out in needles and veins, and it's simply not working anymore. The jig is up; my hiding spot has been exposed as inadequate, senseless, and most definitely temporary. It's time now for me to return to my natural self, to face the damage I've caused and the struggle ahead of me. Somewhere inside of me, I know I can do this. After all, I don't have a choice; it's do or die.
_____
It's 9:30 AM;
I got 0 hrs of sleep last night, (during which I spent 4 or 5 hours on the phone with m., neither of us wanting to hang up - something that I haven't done or felt in years)
and 5 hrs the night before (during which I sat in the car with m. from 11 PM to 6 AM - having flowing, effortless conversation that dove deep, then came up for air at precisely the right times, holding hands, singing to him with so much heart, sharing soft, sweet kisses)
The lack of sleep is definitely taking its toll, so excuse me if this isn't as organized or articulate as it should be. Welcome to my brain, barely filtered.
On the other hand, there's the possibility that you'll be hit with difficult circumstances or emotions and be entirely unprepared and overwhelmed - lacking the coping skills that you never developed, as well as the artificial coping device(s) that were used to replace them.
That's what seems to be happening to me this time, although by no means has it been long enough to consider this a significant attempt to get/stay sober. Already though, emotions are flooding in to replace the heroin that's being pushed out of my life. Good and bad feelings, so strong that I can feel them in the clench in my chest and the water in my eyes, waves that just come crashing without my having wanted or willed it. The most uncomfortable aspect is that I can't control the existence or intensity of my emotions, only choose the best way to go about dealing with them as they happen.
Such a huge part of my being wants to run straight back to medicating myself in the most illicit and severely stigmatized manner, just to avoid having to figure out how to deal with my natural reactions at full volume, without the pillow of heroin to stifle them. I'm being forced to face that yes, at some point before my descent into drug use, I was being treated strictly for psychiatric issues, and those have not gone away just because I've smothered them; in fact, they've probably festered and worsened into something more menacing and complex. I can't avoid addressing my emotions any longer without slowly committing suicide in doing so.
Unfortunately, although at times it's been a breathtaking privilege to experience the burning passion and rich emotion that I possess, it has too often just been an avalanche that bowls me over, completely disproportionate to the situation at hand and not necessarily appropriate as a way to react. The inevitable presence of impulsive decisions, attempted escapism, and helpless outbursts have, by now, shaped much of my past and my personality into this mangled, hastily patched up creation.
It feels as if the opportunities and obstacles in my life are delicate miniature houses in my path, and I am a reckless hurricane hurdling forward at an unstoppable speed. I want so badly to be composed and proportional, to ring the tiny doorbell and pass through the front doorway with ease, into the future, as if I belong there. However, I know this has never been an option for me. It's inevitable that even if I do my best to be gentle and rational, to a certain extent I will end up tearing apart what lies ahead of me, shredding expectations and creating the wreckage that I'm supposed to learn from, but never seem to.
I have been desperately avoiding any potential opportunities and obstacles by hiding out in needles and veins, and it's simply not working anymore. The jig is up; my hiding spot has been exposed as inadequate, senseless, and most definitely temporary. It's time now for me to return to my natural self, to face the damage I've caused and the struggle ahead of me. Somewhere inside of me, I know I can do this. After all, I don't have a choice; it's do or die.
_____
It's 9:30 AM;
I got 0 hrs of sleep last night, (during which I spent 4 or 5 hours on the phone with m., neither of us wanting to hang up - something that I haven't done or felt in years)
and 5 hrs the night before (during which I sat in the car with m. from 11 PM to 6 AM - having flowing, effortless conversation that dove deep, then came up for air at precisely the right times, holding hands, singing to him with so much heart, sharing soft, sweet kisses)
The lack of sleep is definitely taking its toll, so excuse me if this isn't as organized or articulate as it should be. Welcome to my brain, barely filtered.