Sometimes, I am not sure how much of myself to "put out there". It is always a risk, to let others see us as we really are. Yet, there is something therapeutic about about letting the light in, letting it illuminate those dark recesses within us...letting go of secret things. They say our secrets keep us sick. That may well be true.
I sat today with a man and began to let the sun in. Sitting across a desk from him, he typed the beginnings of this story in to his computer as I told him, "I am an addict. I need help."
Thus begins a journey, one I have been on before.
I first got sober was when I was nineteen years old.I had been drinking for a couple of years and it had steadily become more out of control. Finally, I knew-I just knew this was not normal. Social drinkers did not do the things I was doing. Social drinkers did not intend to have one beer and then drink a six-pack alone. Social drinkers did not think all day of getting off work so they could get hammered. Social drinkers could remember what they did the night before. I was not a social drinker!
I asked a counselor, "Do you think I'm an alcoholic?"
He replied, "If you think that you are, that's good enough for me."
I stayed sober for a while, then relapsed with pills. I was twenty when I had my first full blown blackout. I woke up with no recollection whatsoever how I got to bed the night before. It scared me, and I made the decision to go to AA.
A year later, without having taken a drink or drug, I was suicidal. What I did not realize was that I also had clinical depression. I was lying in bed one night, planning my own death. The next night I asked some friends for the help I needed and they drove me to a treatment center, after I had taken some pills. I woke up, barely able to remember signing myself in. I spent the next 30 days there and left, feeling I had everything under control.
That has been my worst problem for years-the illusion of control.
I "controlled" alcohol until it nearly killed me, "controlled" depression, narcotics, and now, amphetamines, to the very brink of complete insanity.
No-social drinkers and sane people do not overdose and awaken in the ICU on a ventilator, wishing they could still drink. Casual drug users do not lie in bed and pull their own hair out by the roots. But even more than that, those people can stop. I have not been able to stop for a very long time.
As they say, "this ain't my first rodeo". But, the ride gets more difficult every time I come out of the chute. I am truly afraid. I have a little boy who needs me. I have to survive this-how will anyone be able to explain it to him if I don't? Giving up is not an option. Suicide is not a thing I can do and complete insanity is not a place I can go.
So there it is, my friends- my soul and its struggle today. It may be a little while before I have the energy or ability to write again. I know what withdrawal is going to do to me. I know it may be weeks before I come out of the fog. Bear with me, please. With any luck, I will soon let more light in and feel less pain. Inshallah (God willing), I will be back.
She Talks To Angels-Counting Crowes
I sat today with a man and began to let the sun in. Sitting across a desk from him, he typed the beginnings of this story in to his computer as I told him, "I am an addict. I need help."
Thus begins a journey, one I have been on before.
I first got sober was when I was nineteen years old.I had been drinking for a couple of years and it had steadily become more out of control. Finally, I knew-I just knew this was not normal. Social drinkers did not do the things I was doing. Social drinkers did not intend to have one beer and then drink a six-pack alone. Social drinkers did not think all day of getting off work so they could get hammered. Social drinkers could remember what they did the night before. I was not a social drinker!
I asked a counselor, "Do you think I'm an alcoholic?"
He replied, "If you think that you are, that's good enough for me."
I stayed sober for a while, then relapsed with pills. I was twenty when I had my first full blown blackout. I woke up with no recollection whatsoever how I got to bed the night before. It scared me, and I made the decision to go to AA.
A year later, without having taken a drink or drug, I was suicidal. What I did not realize was that I also had clinical depression. I was lying in bed one night, planning my own death. The next night I asked some friends for the help I needed and they drove me to a treatment center, after I had taken some pills. I woke up, barely able to remember signing myself in. I spent the next 30 days there and left, feeling I had everything under control.
That has been my worst problem for years-the illusion of control.
I "controlled" alcohol until it nearly killed me, "controlled" depression, narcotics, and now, amphetamines, to the very brink of complete insanity.
No-social drinkers and sane people do not overdose and awaken in the ICU on a ventilator, wishing they could still drink. Casual drug users do not lie in bed and pull their own hair out by the roots. But even more than that, those people can stop. I have not been able to stop for a very long time.
As they say, "this ain't my first rodeo". But, the ride gets more difficult every time I come out of the chute. I am truly afraid. I have a little boy who needs me. I have to survive this-how will anyone be able to explain it to him if I don't? Giving up is not an option. Suicide is not a thing I can do and complete insanity is not a place I can go.
So there it is, my friends- my soul and its struggle today. It may be a little while before I have the energy or ability to write again. I know what withdrawal is going to do to me. I know it may be weeks before I come out of the fog. Bear with me, please. With any luck, I will soon let more light in and feel less pain. Inshallah (God willing), I will be back.
She Talks To Angels-Counting Crowes
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