I’ve been working hard to get off dope. I’ve managed to get a week of clean time before messing up.
Some circumstances I could have done better with, some I could help avoided, but there were a few I don’t think anyone could have prepared for.
I went to get my mail out of the box on my porch. Among the envelopes I found a baggie of dope worth $50.00.
Obviously this was a setup. Someone either wanted me to continue using badly enough to spend fifty dollars on it. Or they were trying to get me arrested.
The moment I set eyes on the baggie, my mind split. I was watching myself find the items needed for use and assemble those items. Then, I watched myself get high.
I don’t know if any of you have experienced anything like that, but it is the strangest feeling to be unable to control your body. It’s very confusing to know your doing these things, but not want to do them.
So, for months, I have been back and forth with using and quitting. At first, I told people about my quitting and tried to accept their support. I celebrated each day and cried when I messed up. I admitted to my people that I had messed up and would quit again.
After a couple of months of this, I quit telling people I quit. I stopped telling people I started back. I stopped accepting their support. I gave up on myself.
I have spent some weeks berating myself for being weak. I felt ashamed of myself for lying to my friends.
Since then, I have made changes which I hope will increase my chances for staying clean.
There are a total of six people I have face to face contact with. Before it was well over twenty. All of these associations are drug related.
During this time, I fell for a guy I call Lover boy. That, of course, set everything back. We’ve been together four months, but yesterday I told him to leave. I am determined to quit, but he seems determined to keep me using.
He said he called for a ride, but I think he lied. I think he was just waiting for me to calm down so he could pretend nothing happened and go right back to the way it was.
About 4 this morning, I was just simply too tired to fight about it. I went to bed. It was not long before he joined me.
We didn’t get to rest long. Several people over the next couple hours knocked on the door. Then, he had to get up and go to work.
This is when we actually had a serious conversation for the first time in our relationship. He didn’t talk over me. I managed to keep from yelling. It was just a really good conversation.
I told him that he didn’t have to agree with me, I just needed him to understand my point of view, where I was coming from.
He said he was concerned (his term was jealous) about other men being here when he wasn’t, that he was afraid of losing me.
I totally understand this. I, sometimes, think he is just with me until he finds something better. When I see him talk to other women, I feel ice cold stakes pierce my heart and anger begins building in my stomach.
My first instinct is to make him pay for me feeling this way. What I normally do is remind myself that I can’t control him. I tell myself that it’s okay for him to find other women attractive. That it doesn’t mean anything will happen. And that it is perfectly normal for him to be able to see the attractiveness of another woman.
Meanwhile, my head is screaming about how unfair it is that everytime I think I have found a good, honest man, he turns out to be a scum bucket.
Well, not every time. My first husband was/is a good man. I don’t think my boys could find a better role model than their father. Until next time…
UPDATE: Lover boy went to work and I went about my day. I rediscovered that I’m usable. I’ll write about that another time.
When Lover boy got home from work, I felt seen when he looked at me. I felt heard when I talked.
I don’t want to sound retarded, but I haven’t felt that way in twenty years. It’s been so long since I’ve felt seen and heard, I forgot it was missing.
I feel like I have substance, like I’m real.
I feel like I matter.