recovery

Addicts don’t deny that they’re using. They deny that it’s hurting others.

As a child I was taught to believe addicts are somehow “bad people.” However, now that I am white-knuckling through my own sobriety and recovery, I am finding these so-called “bad people” are my soulmates. Addicts are remarkable people. Addicts fight a war within themselves every single day. Addicts are stereotyped and discriminated against. Addicts are beaten down and made to believe they are weak. With all odds against them, addicts do live healthy lives in recovery, and for that, I am grateful.

An Open Letter to Anyone Who Loves a Drug Addict I know you didn’t know what you were getting into when you found out I was a drug addict. It hit me just as hard as you, the day they made me say my name attached to it. If you ask why I do it, I could give you a list of excuses that make using acceptable. You are not the main reason I choose to use. Sometimes you are a factor, and sometime it’s something else. Everything and anything is a trigger, as long as I can find a way to justify my using. My addiction did not start with you, so don’t blame yourself.  I was like this long before, and I’ll be this way long after you decide you can’t take it anymore. There’s just this empty, vacancy inside of me that’s eating me alive. I know what I’m putting inside my body isn’t helping, but my dopamine levels tell me otherwise. I’m trying to reconstruct myself back into the girl I was before whatever died and rotted inside of me; before The Monster came along. I know you want to see her instead of this. It kills me inside that you watch me closely as I leave the room, and when I reenter, you assess me to see if I’ve only snuck off to silence my demons. They don’t just go away when I have company; they sit there gnawing at my feet until I finally give in. Believe me, when I’ve had enough I will put it down and walk away, but right now is not the right time. You’re here at the worst possible time; you didn’t know how bad it was. I should’ve warned you. I keep telling myself to cut you off because it’s better that way. Maybe, you could just walk away and forget you saw me in this state. You’ve overcome obstacles and deserve to be surrounded by people who help push you forward. You don’t deserve to watch me waste away. We’ve both been through hell and back too many times and I refuse to drag you into mine. I can’t promise I’ll stop using any time soon, I can’t promise anything. I will say this: one day, I will put this down and I will find a way to revive myself. You are still a part of my life even though The Monster has taken over the majority of it. You know how easy it is for me to get stuck in a repetition, but you have to remember that I will get sick and tired of sitting in this hole, day in and day out. I promise that you will see the person you met years ago again. You won’t have to look at these tired eyes, or watch me fidget incessantly. One day, just not now. If you leave, just know I understand and I don’t blame you. Yes, I will be devastated and yes, I will use it as yet another excuse to use but you have a right to be just as selfish as I’m being. You deserve your happiness and peace of mind. I have never wanted to scream out apologies as much as I have in the last few years. Most of all, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you like you need me to. I’m sorry for being a shitty human being in general. I will turn everything around. Just not right now. At the end of the day, this is my decision. I choose my drugs and until I can healthily cope with everything that’s led me up to this point, I will choose the drugs. This doesn’t mean I don’t love you with every fiber of my being. I can promise you are still the first and last thing on my mind tonight. I don’t know if you’ll ever see this but if you happen to stumble across it, give it a chance. This is the most truthful I’ve been in a very long time. I love you. I love you. I love you and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to be drug into this with me. Love yourbrother/sister/daughter/son/mother/father/boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/best friend/cousin/uncle/aunt but better known as the drug addict

Poetry For An Addict: Part 2

We perceive ourselves differently to how we are perceived by others, and this makes one wonder which perception is based on truth.

You’d lose your mind trying to understand mine.

I’m sick of people telling me it’s just a “get over it” situation. Fuck you. You don’t know what it’s like in my head.