Sleep

Sleeping is one of the things I have taken for granted over the years of addiction and hospitality work. I would think nothing of staying awake for days on end. Or working from 7 am untill 2am the next day and doing it all again, every day, for weeks. I have slept so much over the past few days. Eaten and slept. It’s about time I listened to my body and allowed it the rest it needs to function. Otherwise surely more catastrophe shall follow? There is home made soup in the pan and chilli and rice in others. I shall devour both of these home cooked favourites and then guess what I shall do? You already knew didn’t you? I’ll sleep. Goodnight x

God of my own understanding/Higher Power

A big part of what I have to do is to hand my life over to a god or higher power of my own understanding. I’ve fought and struggled against this, resisted it and even downright dismissed it. Because I don’t understand it. How can I have an entity or power of my own understanding if I cannot comprehend one? Maybe I don’t have to understand it. Maybe I do just need to trust it. Which leads us back to the murky waters of trust. How do I trust in something I don’t understand? If I cannot trust the things I do? Maybe I don’t really understand anything. Maybe I don’t have to. So can I trust in it then? If it doesn’t matter if I don’t understand it? Do you understand?

Doing the little things which make the big things possible.

Apart from going out on Saturday morning for my first dose of the vaccine, all that I’ve done this weekend is sleep and eat. I’ve spent a little time reading the basic text. Not close to as much as I intended too. My body and brain feel wiped out.

I will be going out to a meeting this evening and the thought of that daunts me. Not because of the meeting. I’m looking forward to that part. It’s the getting there and back again which worries me. Which I know is ridiculous, silly and even stupid. I have full use of all of my limbs and other than the self inflicted damage I’ve done to myself recently I’m perfectly capable of getting my self there and back. Yet there’s still a part of my brain that tells me not to. I shan’t listen to it. That doesn’t mean I can’t hear it though. It’s always there.

Being aware that I created these physical and mental ravines to traverse by allowing my addict to take the reigns. Knowing that I and I alone allowed him in and listened to his whispers. Took his advice, sat back and watched the decline of my sanity and physical well-being only to now be wallowing in self pity. Knowing all of this doesn’t change it. It should. Yet it doesn’t. Here I sit.

Getting up, washed and fed will help. Getting out with the dog will help. Going and doing the shopping for my mum will help. By the time I’ve done these simple tasks I will feel ready to go out. To get to the only place I can go where people understand the upside down nature of my brain. Get back in that circle.

The gratitude I have for this fellowship know no bounds. They will accept any one of us if we slip. They will bring us back in and allow us to feel welcome where a lot of the world does not. They will tell us their own stories for us to relate. So that we know we are home and we know we are safe. I am truly grateful to have found them.

71

My mother is 71 years old today. I’m happy for her. She looks great in her new black skinny jeans and boots. She is about to be whisked away to a party where there will be drink and drugs galore. I’m grateful that I’m not going to be there. I’ve said happy birthday and given her a hug. The people who are there aren’t really her friends. If they were they wouldn’t be encouraging an elderly alcoholic to drink. They’re doing their best to finish her off. I see this. Anyone with any sense sees this. As long as she’s happy I guess that’s what counts. I’ll look after her for the next few days when she cannot get down the stairs and needs her bucket changing. When she needs food but refuses to eat. I’ll look after her as best I can. I love her. She’s my mum.

Grief/Higher power moments

I’ve not blogged about this yet. I’m only just beginning to process and feel it. An old friend of mine. A dear friend. Someone who went through some tough times in life with me. Who was homeless with me. Who helped me and always made me smile no matter how bad things were. Well, he died. A few days into my relapse I received a message to let me know he’d been found dead in his flat. Four days he lay dead before he was found. There has to be an autopsy to determine the cause of his death. All I can think is how I could have done more. How I could have been to see him and helped him. Speaking to other mutual friends they have said the same thing.

Higher power moments come in all shapes and sizes. They aren’t always nice. In fact a lot of them are downright awful. This is one of those. That could have been me. He may not be dead if I wasn’t so wrapped up in my own problems. I could have saved him. I could have been there more and do e something. I could have been a better friend. Now a mother has lost her son. A brother has lost his older brother.

I miss you Chris. I missed you before you died. I miss the jokes we had and the times we shared. I love you. I will be at your funeral to say goodbye and I will not use your death as an excuse to use drink or drugs. I won’t honour your life by destroying my own. I will honour your life by continuing to live. I won’t ever say I’ll live perfectly. Because who can? I’m sorry i didn’t come to see you more. I’m sorry I didn’t do more. I’m sorry Chris. Rest in peace my brother. Love always.

Fellowship

It works if you work it. It’s about time I worked it.

This fellowship of addicts is the only thing that will keep me truly clean. I could probably get clean of drugs. But I doubt I would be living clean. I would still be acting out and using behaviours that lead me back to the inevitable relapse. I have been skirting around the edges and not really working it. Going to meetings but not sharing. Not really, truly connecting. I’ve made connections in the fellowship but I wasn’t connected to them. The more I disconnected from this, the closer I was to connecting to drugs. One meeting a week, where I sit back and don’t share just won’t work. I need to do more for my recovery. It has to come first. It has to balance with life and finding that balance can be difficult. The alternative is much more difficult though. Not only for me but more importantly for those who care for me. I had a service position at a meeting and I neglected it. I’m going to spend a lot of time reading this book. Digesting it’s contents. Getting a sponsor and working the steps. I HAVE TO.

Easy/difficult

It would have been so easy to just sit. Sit and not wash again. Do nothing but read other people’s blogs and sink deeper into depression. I’m not doing that though. I’m up, washed and I’ve eaten. These are all just such normal things but they can become huge mountains to climb. If I let them. I’m not letting them. Just being outside now makes me feel anxious and scared. They are just feelings and I can sit with them. Uncomfortably for a while but it will pass. Doing the little things I find difficult will make the bigger things easier. I have been given a chance by my employers. I will not let them down. They are making exceptions for me and my problems so I must do my best to honour them. Otherwise I’ve learnt nothing from my past mistakes. There’s two rules I have to live by.

1. Don’t pick up

2. Do the next right thing.

These sound so easy. They should be easy. Not picking up is imperative as once I do everything else goes out of the window. Doing the next right thing is difficult. How to identify what the next right thing is? I guess doing my best to help and be nice. Today it’s making sure I show up to speak to my employer. Then getting a present for my mum’s birthday. She deserves to feel special on her birthday.

I threw my pipe away, again. Another one bites the dust. That comes under both categories.

Relapse/Recovery

I’ve had a long twisty journey of relapse and recovery. I’ve learnt a lot and I’ve still got plenty to learn. If I’m not working on recovery I’m working on relapse. Today I am working on recovery. I go back to fellowship this evening and I’ll get yet another white keyring. Just for today. It’s difficult not to think of how I’ve gotten my 30 days, 60 days and then thrown them away for relapses. I need to get in that circle and let it all out. Stop holding back and truly share. I must find a sponsor and I must work the steps. “It works if you work it. So work it you’re worth it”

Gratitude

I imagine you’ve all heard enough about my behaviour and attitude. The stories are endless. So now I’d like to talk about what I’m grateful for. Doing a daily gratitude list is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. So here is my first one.

I’m grateful for my mother. For loving me and making sure I’m not on the streets. She’s 71 in two days!

I’m grateful for my brother, who came in last night late and hugged me when I was on the sofa.

I’m grateful for my sister. Although we aren’t talking I think of her and her little family daily. I miss her. I understand.

I’m grateful for my Aunt. Who has never given up on me. Even after I disappeared for 20 years.

I’m grateful for my cousin. Who I spoke recently to for the first time in a few years. She has enough on her plate but still found time to speak to me.

I’m grateful for my friend. I won’t say his name on here but he knows who he is. I’ve let him down more than most but he still cares. Love you man.

I’m grateful for Bingo. This little dog never leaves my side. He stays with me all night and is currently curled up at my feet

I’m grateful I’m still alive. That I have relatively good health. I could be in much worse shape.

I’m grateful for all of the people in recovery. For all of the fellowships. I’m going to be at a meeting later and that’s the stuff that will keep me clean

I’m grateful to be waking up sober/clean.

I’m grateful for all of the chef’s who have helped me along my journey. I’m going to speak to work today to sort out a plan that fits around recovery.

I’m grateful that I have the opportunity to share all these moments.

I’m grateful for all of your posts and blogs. It gives me hope.

I’m grateful for all feedback. Other people’s perspective is so powerful.

I’m grateful.

Broken

I’m broken. Not for the first time. In fact I’ve been more broken than whole forever. I’ve been sat scrolling through here all day. Shouting at myself for not writing anything down. Yet still stating blankly not knowing how to start. I’ve just come off a 9 day binge after quite a lot of clean time. Which is shit. It’s shit because I know why I relapsed. Because I’ve not properly dealt with anything. I’m walking around with all of my past wrongs hanging off me like chains. Wrongs I’ve committed and wrongs that were committed against me. There’s a lot more I committed. I honestly wish I could remember them all. You see, half the time I didn’t think I was wrong and the other half I didn’t care. I have been selfish to the core, manipulative, violent, underhand, untrustworthy and unfaithful. Yeah shit happened to me. So fucking what. It’s no excuse for any of the treatment I inflicted on anyone who tried to care about me. Or anyone I should have been caring for. I can’t remember all the stuff that happened to me. I’ve been told about it and I still can’t quite believe or get my head around it. But the way I have used, abused and hurt others is right there. I can’t stop looking at it. I used to every drug I could to stop looking at it and became even more of a disgrace. Descended even further. Lied, lied and lied some more. I don’t know how to begin to apologise to all of the people I’ve harmed. I’m haunted constantly. It’s been so long and I’ve pushed it all down so far. I read a lot of posts the other night on here. But I have to face it. The fact I may or most probably did get women pregnant before deserting them. Or just never speaking to them. The way I have been so promiscuous without a care in the world to pregnancy or sexually transmitted disease is disgusting. The way I have been so sex obsessed for so long. Lying about my sexuality. I was confused for a long time about it. Then I wasn’t but I still lied about it. Then I was more open with women I was with and STILL went out cheating with men. Unprotected. How could I be so careless and callous. To put people at risk like that. I just kept ploughing on through life. Never once stopping to think about the damage I was causing. That has to end. I want and need to look at it all. It’s killing me. More importantly it’s not fair that I shouldn’t have to face up to everything.

Love/hate

I’ve been so full of hate and resentment my whole life that training my brain to not revert to these emotions/feelings/actions feels impossible. I know it isn’t. I know I need therapy. The meetings help because I can get a lot out there. I know it’s not enough by a long shot. There’s a lot of work with doctors that has to happen. I want to know what it is inside that twists me up and sends every emotion out sideways. I want to love. I thought I could but as established, my thinking is fucked.

Trying to focus on now

It’s tough init? Not dwelling on all of the pain and chaos of the past or dreaming about the possibility of things being ok in the future. I certainly don’t want to forget anything and I really do believe I need to look at a lot of past actions and behaviour. But that’s where it gets tricky. I can sit in that for hours, days, weeks and never move forward at all.

So looking at now. Today. I’m still using. It’s nearly gone and I intend for it to stay gone. I’m going to get on an online NA meeting. I’m going to reconnect with fellowship and talk to them. Get to a meeting if I can and do my best to get it out there that I NEED a sponsor. I have spoken with work and we are going to look at a plan that fits around recovery. For this I am truly, truly grateful. Because I can do this. I was stupid to think I could jump straight back in and start doing 10 shifts in a row. Small steps. Family wise, my mother doesn’t hate me. She is obviously disappointed. I’ve snatched the rug of recovery away from under her feet again. My brother will be disappointed. He will be back later on and I will talk to him. Like, actually talk. He understands addiction. A lot of people don’t. And that’s ok. I wish I could be one of those people who just stopped doing drugs. Not let their life descend into chaos and madness. I can’t. I need the help of other addicts in recovery. Which I am seeking out. Get back in that circle and talk to other people who’s thinking is as upside down and twisted as mine. Because my thinking is absolutely fucked. I recognise how fucked it is. Thinking that picking up meth a week ago was a good idea is a prime example. I ended up reverting back to the awful human I am trying to get away from. I do not want to carry on in this way and I appreciate any thoughts or advice. I would also greatly appreciate it if anyone would just straight up tell me my wrongs to them. Because honestly, there is so much bad shit in my past that I can’t remember all of it until prompted. I know that there’s a lot of you out there and if I can make any kind of amends or apologies without making matters worse for you then I would love to do that.

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