Cravings

Fuck.

It’s been two and a half weeks since my relapse. I’ve felt mostly shitty for that entire time. I’ve been dealing with it mostly by going to Refuge, purging, starving, cutting and talking about how I’m feeling.

Today, I haven’t engaged in any eating disordered or self-harming behavior and, lo and behold, suddenly my addict brain is trying to convince me that it’s a good idea to use ‘just a little’ meth or heroin, just to take the edge off and feel a bit better. I mean, I have had very explicit fantasies (which I’m doing my best to snuff out) about shooting up.

Now, the good news…

I have not purchased any drugs today. I have not picked up any rigs today. I have spent several hours at the ashram with my wife. I have told my mentor about these thoughts I’ve been having. I am on my way to a Refuge Recovery meeting right this instant.

It’s insane. Part of me knows, for a fact, that a small shot of one of those drugs would make me feel tremendously better (at least in the short term). A better part of me knows that using would fuck up my life, in the long term, far more seriously than the fairly complete fucking I’ve already given myself.

Knows it.

And I still can’t make the craving go away. That is the madness of addiction. If you’ve ever heard an addict talk of ‘using against their will’, that would be me, were I to pick up right now. The remnants of my rational brain, given their druthers, will never use another drug, but it is such a strong pull that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say, for the rest of my life, that I will, under any circumstances, never use again.

I’m not cutting deals with my addict brain this time. I saw how well that worked out two and a half weeks ago. There can be no bargaining, no compromises, no anything that will allow me an inkling of an idea that it is ok to use.

Ever.

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