Choosing the Street Home

Tonight I am grateful not to turn down the street that takes me home to sadness, resentment and lies. Instead I continue straight to the path today that takes me to a home of joy, serenity and love. There are places that still hit me with unexpected reaction that begins in the subliminal, then surfaces to provoke emotions I cannot even connect to. I feel my mouth watering for my drug of choice, even though I have no desire to use.

There is no clean time that takes me to a safe distance from my addiction.Until tonight, I had not really been to the part of the city that holds ties to picking up when no one was available in closer proximity. And the ride I went on in my head came unexpectedly.

I can feel… like it is in real time… myself gripping a small piece of plastic as I drive home in anticipation, likely for the third or fourth time that same night. I recognize it came to a point when I didn’t even have the restraint to wait until I got home. My imagination is running away, giving me flashes and feelings of the pipe in my hand.

I am living this in my mind as I retrace the route in my car four years later. I feel tears wanting to fall, but I don’t understand what this emotion is. I know I love my life clean and I do not feel the fear this type of experience would have brought a few years ago. I won’t feed the part of me that is somewhat resentful I can’t go back. As fast as the unclean thoughts enter I let them go unable to identify the emotions I am experiencing.

I am, almost without consciousness, vividly recalling the rush I loved. I am picturing rocks of substance in the environment around me as if in some parody movie playing in my head. It is almost laughable and because humour is my best friend I will laugh about this later, but for this moment I am given intense reminders with all my senses that addiction lives just under my skin.

I have accepted that for the rest of my life I may have these moments. My mind and my body have memories that can be provoked in the most benign instant. I am grateful I can acknowledge this and take it for what it is, just a moment in my life as an addict and when I choose the next moment to focus on my recovery, and how much that means to me, I take the power from addiction.

As I write this I feel the peace that brings. I am powerless over my addiction, but I have choices in my perception in times like this and I choose to look back and raise my middle finger to that part in my mind that took me off balance for a second.

…and now I can laugh.

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Active Addiction

It was the sadness that ran so deep it made my body ache,

It was my heart beating so hard I could hear it in my ear drums,

Yet in another moment fading to an almost undetectable wisp.

It was the mirror, like a magnifying glass, taking regret to pure self hatred.

My emotions felt as though they would shatter like thin ice.

At the same time I wanted to claw out my organs just to feel.

Make the world stop just for a moment.

That is why I came here, but now I am exhausted as it seems

I am alone trying to hold the earth from continuing to rotate.

 

I will not forget where I came from and I practice gratitude everyday for living clean. An addict, any addict can lose the desire to use and learn to live clean. I am no longer alone and I am grateful that being an addict and finding recovery brings me so many gifts when I allow life to unfold knowing I never need to use again.

PEN FOR A PIPE

I want to write about everything that inspires

I want to write my deepest desires

I want to set fire to the page

I want to use ink to work through my rage

In writing I can find deepest purpose inside

Words flowing onto page to reveal things I hide

Thoughts turned off

Spirit only flows

Words with deeper meaning

Everything I’ve always known

No blocks

No fear

No judgment

Just today

The past stays behind

Allowing inner child to play

I will use a pen in place of a pipe

To escape with purpose

To a place that is ripe;

With spiritual connection

Inner peace and healing

The place I strive to be

No floor, no ceiling

I want to write to get out of myself

I want to write to be inside myself

No beginning, no end, just possibility

A place where there is truth I could never before see

Finished for now, yet just beginning

Putting a stop to false thought spinning

No longer looking back in fear

Staying in now, keeps the future clear

Knowing my destiny is ahead

Now there is purpose on the path I tread

SURRENDER

It was the pipe that was taking me down, was it not?

Stepping over the line, tripped and got caught

The invisible thread cut through skin, then to flesh

Deep to the bone, making old wounds seem fresh

To distort, to justify, to take me away

Sacrificing spirit, emotional decay

Shrinking smaller and smaller, and I can’t stop it

Shaking going unseen until cause to drop it

Lost in the shadow of all that is wrong

Days without reason to even go on

Distorted in haze of thought and false emotion

Not able to unravel tight wound contortion

Pain only goes deeper with attempts to change

Process and patterns in jumbled rearrange

Alone and isolated with fears caving in

Weighted down, hopeless, will pulled thin

Medicating, escaping the only way to cope

The choice that deepens desperation, the thief of my hope

Then appears another way

A sliver of light representing a different day

Allow for surrender, reach out to start again

Open to a path where the darkness will end.

I was going through my poetry journal, I wrote this in June  2013 and finished it today (January 13, 2014). Feeling gratitude for the hope and faith the program of Narcotics Anonymous has brought to my life.

Goodbye LETTER TO MY ADDICTION

This letter was written March 7, 2013 after the fourth week in House of Sophrosyne addiction treatment. As I type it I can see the emotion illustrated in my handwriting. I remember sitting down thinking I had no idea what to write, but I had put the letter off and it needed to be done, so I cleared my mind and the words hit the page in a fury…

I HATE YOU! Fuck off and leave me alone forever. I refuse to love you anymore. I won’t miss you or long for you because you don’t deserve an ‘ounce’ of my attention. You took my kids and convinced me to compromise my values and myself. My thoughts are changed and I have to work to exhaustion to drown out your voice. SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! Go far away and never come back. Just try to whisper with your provocative voice. Try to entice me with your glamour. The risk is no longer exciting to me, it is terrifying. Don’t dare take that sentiment and use it against me. Fear is no longer an excuse. Nor is sadness, grief, insecurity, hurt or any of those things you will try to exploit. Watch me celebrate without you the high that is life. The career you convinced me to put on hold is about to flourish. STOP TALKING!! I am not listening and when I choose to ignore you be highly offended because I am doing it intentionally to beat you down like you did me.

My spirit is here to extinguish you. My vital spark will see you burn in hell!

FUCK YOU! I WIN!!!

If you know me, you know I am rarely an angry person. I recall the rage that was building as I wrote this and then immediate relief when I finished. I wrote a quote on the page at the end. ‘Achievement without struggle isn’t rewarding’ Heather Fuher

 

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FUNCTIONING and ADDICTED

I’m not suicidal, but killing myself

I can handle my challenges

Yet I keep them on a shelf

I am happy and grateful

And still I use

I have a good relationship

Full of abuse

I am open and honest

About hiding and lies

An addict who functions

As her spirit dies

Written in active addiction.

So grateful my addiction journey brought me to recovery, narcotics anonymous and a healing of my spirit.

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INSANITY

My addiction is trying to kill me

In the illusion it can thrill me

Dragging me back in

Perpetuating spin

Needing to feel lighter and looking for a lift

Exactly what it wants, to veer my shift

Trying to drown me and drag me to the deep

The fight is physical and energy hard to keep

My craving like a thirst for poison, bitter

My vision being blinded by illogic to consider

Anger, sadness, resentment vivid

Misdirected emotions build to livid

Something clawing just beneath the skin

Trying to get out or fighting to stay in

Illness of spirit, acid to the soul

Show me a new way, I have lost control

written March 2013

Recently found this on my phone. Feels strange to have little recollection of writing it. One of those days the disease was trying to surface. So grateful I have been shown a new way and to have the outlet of poetry, art and true friendship in place of substances 🙂