Seriously. I posted a week and a half ago about having my best day since I arrived in Portland and still wanting to use as I got ready to go to bed. I was on something of an emotional roller coaster today. It ended really well, at a concert in the park with two really good friends. While I was sitting there, I was wondering if I’d make it to 2019 without relapsing on heroin and, possibly, dying.
I give myself 50/50 odds, at best. That’s really not that great.
I’ve broken down crying every day for the last 3 or 4 days, I guess? I feel like shit… I want to use. I feel really good… I want to use. I see triggers everywhere. I want to be clear that I absolutely do not want to relapse. However, I don’t think I’m really all that much better since the last time I used heroin (coming up on 5 months now) and in several ways, I’m worse. My eating, for one, is much worse. I’ve obviously had a couple ‘minor’ (non-heroin) relapses and, for the last couple of months, have been dealing with really strong urges to shoot up.
So, what’s the responsible thing to do? Do I start putting things in order, in case I do relapse? Or would that wind up ‘enabling’ me and making it easier for me to rationalize picking up eventually? And if I ignore this possibility and the worst possible thing does happen, I would feel awful that I had left everything such a mess (well, except for the fact that I would be dead).
I think a lot of this comes from me just being very self-destructive. I’ve been actively working against my own self-interests for years now, with my acts of self-sabotage becoming more and more egregious as time has worn on. I feel crazy. I’m pretty sure I am. I see myself doing things that are really bad for me yet seem unable to stop myself. I’m yelling at myself in my head to stop doing crazy things but seem unable to do so.
One of the best examples of this was my isolated relapse on cocaine that happened, maybe, two months ago(?). It was a Saturday. I had just come out of a Refuge Recovery meeting (triggered… go figure) and had plans to go hang out with my wife that afternoon. She canceled. I wound up in a text conversation with a women that I knew probably had drugs. I told her I’d come over and do some work on her computer that I had told her I would do. So, I set out. I walked two miles to her place, the whole time, trying to get myself to stop or turn around or call someone or anything other than what I was doing. I failed. I made it to her place and was probably working on her computer for about 15 minutes before she flopped down a bag of cocaine next to me. I knew I’d use it the moment I saw it. Hell, I had already made that decision when I set out on that walk to her place.
I had the ‘discipline’ to finish working on the computer before I used. She warned that it was cut pretty badly. She was definitely right about that. We each did a couple lines. I did not get high which was probably a good thing. I came clean about what I had done to my Refuge Recovery mentor a few days later. I guess that is something I’m doing differently this time. In the past, no one would have ever known that had happened. I’m actually talking about this shit this time. I still have some secrets. Maybe I’ll eventually talk about them, maybe I won’t. Maybe they’ll cause me to relapse, maybe they won’t. I don’t know. I certainly haven’t shot dope and tried to hide it. My addiction is actually trying to tell me that I could do that and that I probably could get away with it. Who knows… maybe I could, at least for a little while but it would destroy my life, possibly, literally.
And, yet, I continue to be triggered at the drop of a hat. My brain really is trying to kill me. It’s been working hard at it for years now and seems to keep getting better and better at it. My ‘intentional’ suicide attempts pale in comparison to the ‘unintentional’ drug overdose I self-administered on March 1st. I am frightened but still fighting. I’m tired, though, and all of this shit is wearing me the fuck out. Do I let the lion win? I’ve got my weapons assembled. Is it possible to stay alive by killing my mind? What would that even look like?
(On a fun, administrative note, I just noticed that this was my 400th blog post. Yay! Go me!)