I post about cats, and tell jokes, here. Sometimes, i even tell jokes about cats. But,I am an advocate, for mental health. Also, for sobriety. My job is in mental health. Sober from physical addiction, for 10 years now. 2 1/2 years away smoking,and the marijuana maintenance program. Very funny story, that is. Also, where it all began, though it got much worse. Probably would still be smoking, if it weren’t for that sign from god, mixed with clumsiness. I was doing monkey work,at the time. Making food,and working in warehouses. Stuff monkeys, can do, no offense if this is what you do. It’s hard work,and I respect it. I used to be good at it too. My health,and body, do not permit anymore, though.
Was hired to do a job, for a government organization,in a kitchen. Pretty good job for that field. Smoking weed, every day,since the 90s, keeping many shit jobs,along the way. Honestly, being an addict, I worked around my addiction. What kind of jobs, can I get, that let me smoke every day? It’s what I’ll do then. The hard drugs,and pills was a whole other story. Ironically, marijuana was the most harmful to me in the long run.
It was the drug tests. Was not the time, that I broke my neck and refused a drug test, for workers comp, that stopped me. Working at a group home,someone slammed me from behind. Accidentally. About 6’9 300 lbs. he stood. Everyday, a welcome to work, bear hug . We fell,backwards one day, hit the floor. Ever seen the WWE? Think suplex. Thought I’d walk it off, skip the exam,and drug test. Would have been fired. Can’t have that. Of course got fired for weed, on my day off, later on. After trying to walk off injury,and skipping their exams and procedures, I’m in danger of not walking again. Disks are dangerously out of place,in my neck.
But,an embarrassing humiliation at another time, is what really did it for me, after all of it. Doing warehouse work, I had learned to fake drug tests, with great success. Until the day it did not work, in the biggest,and baddest of ways. Off to the lab, for my test for the government job. Go in, busy place ready for my fake test. Quick fix. Fake pee, wrapped in hot hands packs. Hand warmers,and bottle in my pocket. They finally call me, the bottle broke in my pocket. Fake pee,everywhere,seat I was in, clothes,etc.
Thank god, I had to turn my ID in, to take the test. They had it,,or I may have ran out. Not so lucky. Had to finish my process, to get it back. Saw that as a literal and a metaphorical sign from god. Took it all in, not going to use again period, full stop. Probably won’t hear about me lying or cheating again either.
Physical addiction, was easy. I was more than ready,and had somewhat comfortable detoxes. It was for me, not them. ALOT of support, from friends and community programs, for the worst of it. Had some Tyler Durden, bouts of sleeplessness. Shadows on my wall,and imaginary friends, in there. Some real friends, that I truly miss, also.
How’s that working out for you? I heard. In passing, jogging my memories, of recovery. Flash back, to right before rehab. I had went to my doctor,and asked for an emergency script,after letting him know, that I had gotten addicted to benzos, badly on my own. He asked; “Where are you getting these things?” I told him about the Silk Road, and said I was paying exorbitant fees, to get them, in my mail box.
“Well how’s that working out for you?” He asked. Not great, and I need help, I said. Going to treatment soon. I did. Don’t take those drugs anymore
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