Let me start out by saying, this blog is my therapy. I let whatever comes to my mind go through the keys and out into the universe. In my ten years of active addiction, I experienced horrors beyond the average imagination. I am not being dramatic- just stating facts. I am not sure if the streets of San Francisco are unique in that the lengths of human depravity on display here are enough to provide a lifetime of nightmares. I suppose my experience of a user in active addiction could have been very different if I would have stayed in Ohio but it was headed down that trajectory. I am a person of extremes. I use hard, I love hard, I am loyal as fuck. When I get involved in something, I do it until the wheels fall off. I'm up in the projects buying crack, I am turning tricks if necessary, I am walking the city with one shoe on and one shoe off out of my mind on meth. That is the essence of my brand.
That being said, I embraced recovery in the same way. I jumped into it 100% with the determination that I was fucking DONE. Period. I don't believe in a bottom. I have seen it proven over and over there is much lower a person can go. The "bottom" was when I said fuck this shit. I can't, I won't do this anymore. I have never used illicit drugs or alcohol since then over this eighteen years. I stopped at 27, almost 28 years old. That is close to the age of most of you avid readers. It is a good age, an age when you have PLENTY of life left to live. You can rebuild your life, salvage some relationships. The time may be later or earlier for you. The reality is if you are using drugs, the vast MAJORITY of you will stop at some point if you don't die. That isn't my speculation, it is held out by facts. You probably won't bang or rail dope. Some of you may bang the bible, some of you will be 12 steppers, some of you will be smoking weed or drinking ie punk rock clean. The daily grind of an active user just isn't sustainable. Your body, your funds, your spirit will fail eventually. Trust me when I say there is no one who loved drugs more than me (until I didn't). I loved shooting up in public places. I loved licking the blood off my arm, I loved the grind of middle manning, shoving big wads of dope or money or both in condoms up my pussy in the cat and mouse of the life. I also hated no veins, no friends, no stability, being sick every 6 hours, and the way my life was 100% consumed by a few chemicals. I'm off that shit now. I am grateful.
I got off dope.
I went back to school. Got two degrees and a credential.
I own a home.
I have a career.
I have a healthy relationship.
I have three great kids.
I had a good relationship with my mom before she passed. RIP.
I am well respected.
I show up for my life today.
I am snuggling next to my cat. (I have three).
I am snuggling next to my dog.
I am under the warm covers.
I have love in my life.
I have my self respect.
I have you.
Maybe I deal with the ups and downs of depression but overall, my life is pretty damn good.
I love you readers. Thanks for being there for me.