Monthly Archives: May 2012

House not a mansion

How is it that methadone can trick a mind into thinking so many crazy things? The drug is supposed to mess with pain receptors right? I was thinking today about all the perceptions opiates distort. Sometimes it’s hard to think back to my life before pain pills, but I do remember a time.

Just down the block from my home there stood a mansion that I would walk by on my way to and from school. Every day when I was young, I would pass it, and dream of one day growing old in that house. It was most beautiful to me. Then I took my first pain pill, and found all I needed for the next however many years.

I was good and numb, but I still kept that mansion in the back of my mind. Silently I would cut myself to pieces as I thought of the time I wasted chasing a high. If only I had been working, putting all my money into the acquisition of that mansion.  At the very least, these thoughts gave me a reason to continue fucking myself up.

One day though, I found that something (nobody knows what) that people get when they finally decide to get their shit together. I’m rebuilding my life when that mansion comes back up again. I’m searching for answers, and I can’t help but think about it. I’m going to tell you of a funny thing that happened at a certain point.

I looked around, and knew that no matter what I thought I wanted, I am right where I’m supposed to be. I know because I drove past that mansion the other day. I admired it still for all that it was to me when I was so young and foolish. However, it was a prolific moment because I finally realized that it wasn’t a mansion after all- it was just a house.

It still looked the same, but I had changed. Besides, the home I live in has walls of gold, marble floors and an open roof so I can watch the stars. It was a good day when I realized; I don’t miss a fucking thing because I know now, in my heart, that I am in the exact home I was meant for. The best thing…it came with a Queen. Thank you!

I Pulled a Post

I was talking on the phone to my brother last night, and he gave me some advice. That’s very hard for me to take because I have never been one with taking advice. However, I can admit now that I don’t know everything, so I pulled the “6 Skips” post.

While we were talking, I was surprised when he told me that he knew all along that I was still on pills/methadone. His exact words, “Dude, when you gained all that weight and were nodding off with this stupid look on your face at grandma’s, it was obvious”. And here I thought I was being inconspicuous.

I asked him why he never said anything because, “I would have”, I told him. “Because you weren’t very approachable” he says. Haha, how true is that of all addicts? We are not very approachable indeed. Then, when someone does get the balls to approach, we rip their fucking head off for trying to make us feel something.

I am going to do something with my brother this weekend to find out if my feelings are true, or if they are built upon a foundation of sand. For me it will be a true test, but a test I must take. I will come here, and admit I was wrong, if that is what I learn. Until then at least, I’ll drop the “6 Skips”, and be comfortable admitting that I don’t have all the answers.

Thx a lot numb-nut ūüėČ

Burn black hole

I want to say first how exceptional I feel today. It was a little less than a week ago that I sat in the very spot I am sitting now, and crumbled. All the pain, sorrow, loss and regret visited me when I was alone.¬† I’m alone now, and no, I’m not clean, but I’m cleaner than I was two weeks ago. I woke up on Sunday, and desired the beach.

Do you have any idea how long it has been since I wanted, needed that white sand between my toes? I’ll tell you- it’s been many years. That salt air hit my nostrils, and I knew heaven on earth. I played with my kids , played in the waves like I was a kid, and it felt. I went under the water to let the waves churn me then spit me back out again. I was conscious and thankful for every second me, my wife, and kids had there together.

On the way home the kids slept a deep sleep that only play at the beach brings. Me and my wife actually talked about the future, and all the opportunities now opening. All this only possible because I pulled from within, a desire for a life free from a black hole- a black hole that consumes so much, yet gives so empty. Good God I hope every single person that reads this finds theirs. I don’t care what the vice, just dig deep because we all have it- I truly believe that. You have to find it, and feed it full every day.

I’m burnt badly today and it hurts- can you understand why this brings me unbelievable joy?

I survived

I love the tv show on Biography called “I Survived”. I have loved it since the very first episode I watched a few years ago. I was watching a similar show on 48hrs tonight called¬†“Live to Tell”.¬†I saw these words scroll across the screen: “What if someone wanted you dead, but you-Lived To Tell”. That gives me goose bumps.

These shows are life in its rawest form. Usually, it’s one person on their own, against a foe or foes, and for different reasons they decide, “I’m fighting with my life, for my life”. Very simply they know they will live, or they will die fighting. How can a person not get chills from stories like that?

I remember reading of the¬†massacre at the college in Virginia a few years back. I¬†read how Seung-Hui Cho lined up something like 12 people, and shot them one-by-one-in a line.¬†This story really bothered me too, and¬†I thought of many, “if I were there” scenarios.

If I were there, there really is no way of knowing what I would have done. However,¬†I believe that if I were any other number than the first to be shot, I would not be in that line of dead souls. I may¬†very well have¬†been dead, but my dead¬†ass would have been outside that line. So I have always thought, “what was number seven thinking when he saw the first three get shot?”

Did number seven think hopefully the gun would jam, or that maybe the shooter would decided to take a pee-break, allowing¬†him/her time for a getaway? C’mon now,¬†Cho has just shot the first 1,2,3 point blank range- in the head- what the fuck are you still standing there for?¬†Cho wasn’t even skipping around for confusion’s sake, he was killing them in order!

As I was saying, it usually takes one person with the overwhelming desire to “live”. I can relate to that particular part of their story’s now. I have the overwhelming desire to live, and not just live, but “live long and healthy”. It’s what we’re supposed to want to do as livers.¬†I want to live for my wife, my kids, my family, my friends, and most of all- FOR ME.

There are a few things at the end of each show that I always watch for. The victims always verbalize “why” they think they survived. Some are as simple,¬†yet poignant as, “I wanted to raise my kids” to as¬†strange (or not)¬†as, “I turned to look (in the direction of a mountain lion) and saw a transparent view of Jesus’ face”. And although the reasons differ from person to person, there is one thing that is always static. Each person says they no longer take life for granted.

By staring death in its eye, they all come to know how fragile life is. They appreciate every moment on this earth after that because one thing is for sure- we have one shot at our life (on earth), and then it’s wrapped. That’s a very powerful realization to have. It helps me to know that even though I wasted 18 years of my life, I could actually get more out of the remaining, than people not having been through this get in their whole life. Very, very positive thing to keep in mind through this withdrawal.

I feel that I feel

As I dust myself of the misery of the many years of opiate addiction, I have been processing, and dealing with some very harsh realizations. Some of the realizations are of those no longer with me such as my cousin Josh, and step-sister Ashley.

When they died, I was doing drugs and I was numb. Of course I felt remorse, but it was completely different from truly “feeling” remorse. More like I knew I should be remorseful so therefor I was- or I thought I was. Was I? I really don’t know so I can’t say for sure.

I know I was concerned enough about the appearance that I wasn’t remorseful. My consciousness of the appearance caused me to take extra time arriving to my cousin’s funeral. I didn’t want to sit up front with my wife and family crying, and me- nothing.

I remember looking at my wife, make-up streaming down her face, and asking myself, “does she wonder why I don’t cry?” I didn’t know why myself, but it certainly wasn’t the opiates- not in my mind at that time. It was the opiates, and I know that now.

I know that it was the drugs with more certainty now than ever before because all the tears are flowing now. I am so conscious now of a life without them that there are times I feel my insides are going to burst with sorrow. I never dealt with this pain then, and because of that, it’s like they just died last night.

Sometimes it is very hard to deal with all these old, but brand new emotions rushing in. It really is an exhilarating time to be smelling, tasting, eating the food of lives again. And while it is true that most taste divine, some taste bitter, some are nauseating, and some bite back.

I had a dream about Ashley (step-sister) last night for maybe the first time since she died. Of my sisters, brothers, and cousins in our youth, she would have been the one picked to go furthest in life. She was the most responsible, most trusted, and received the most scholastic accolades. Her going far in life was never to be.

Ashley’s love for one guy ended up being the catalyst into that which took her soul, and ultimately her life. She married “one guy” and this selfish fuck caused her great pain. He destroyed her credit, her ego, her life, and then led her down a path, and wed her to another- a pain killing love. This new love gave her the attention she craved, but it was of the worst sort. It wrapped her in it’s numbing arms, and squeezed the life from her body on May 8, 2007.

My cousin Josh died in a car accident in the early morning hours of Nov. 21, 2010. He was a beautiful person with a zeal for living like I’ve never known. If I’m great with words, Josh was the Jedi master. He always knew exactly what to say, and when to say it. There is a huge hole in family gatherings without him, and I miss him deeply. I am working on a post dedicated to him, so that’s all I’ll say for now.

What I wanted to convey in this post is that “feeling” again can cut both ways. On one side the food tastes so very good- on the other side, it’s so hot that it burns like hell. Either way, I can say with honesty, it is still much better than no feeling at all.

Sun Shines

 Man, what a dark place that was last night.

The sun came up today though. 

You won’t believe me, but the¬†sun¬†was¬†shinin’ at 2am when my skin crawled out of bed.

I know it was shinin’- I saw it in the mirror.

The sun isn’t setting at 8pm¬†tonight because the mirror will still be there- or the man in the mirror.

Please don’t leave me love, I’m comin’ home soon.

Don’t stop prayin’ for me.

I’m sorry for¬†the tantrums, but it hurts sometimes.¬†

If God’s there, He hears your voice.

Please, please, don’t stop believing in me!

facts are facts

I really wish I could come here, and give a positive upbeat message today, but facts are facts- I cannot. I feel like shit, so I will give it just like I feel it. Besides be honest- If I were to come here every day feeling all peppy and shit, you’d know I wasn’t really getting clean wouldn’t you? Let me rephrase that- methadone addicts would know I was full of shit. So this post is for my brothers and sisters in pain.

We have to know this is going to pass. I’ve said it many times, but my wife knew exactly what I needed to hear this morning, when I told her I was in a bad place. She spoke the words, “well, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy”. That’s right my beautiful, I did know it.

But FUCK, why does it have to be?! I’m crying my eyes out right now, but at least I feel it. Mother fuck, at least I feel something. That bullshit kept me feeling nothing for so long, I thought I had no more tears to cry- I literally believed that. I didn’t even cry at my cousins funeral, but I’m crying now Josh. Fuck, I miss you so much now you wouldn’t know.

Hold on tight now you fucking cock sucking, life draining FUCK. You’ve got about 8 weeks left methadone, until I put you to sleep for good.

I have to add something to this post. It is now the morning after I wrote the above. Anyone that thinks the above is some attempt at adding drama has never withdrawn from methadone. It is deadly serious and I found myself wondering why I wasn’t in a hospital detoxing. With the amount of craziness that comes from within, I think we probably at the very least should be under a doctor‚Äôs supervision.

Yesterday was a terrible day from the start. I had diarrhea all the day long that pulled me down physically and mentally. I came home to an empty house (wife and kids @ church). I sat at the corner of a dark table, in a dark room, and darkness swarmed me.

It was a swarm of wasps too, not bees. Wasps are meat eaters, bees are not. That’s why wasp stings are so much more painful than bee stings. Wasps inject a toxin into its victim that breaks down tissue. This enables the wasp to slurp away the meat it seeks. Pretty nasty shit huh?

I was being swarmed by wasps that sought to break down my wellness. I felt them probing the files in my brain, and picking out the ones that could break my will the fastest. There were parts of my will that were already liquifying, and the wasps were beginning to slurp it away. It may have eaten all too, had my wife and kids not been so close to home. I very likely would have been on the phone, looking up old dealers for drugs. I didn’t though, and I feel I gained two lessons from the pit of hell.

The first is that I cannot get over confident. If I take my eye off my goal for even a second, there are wasps waiting to swarm over me. It’s as if they sense when weakness is abound, and they are always poised, ready for an assault. In retrospect, maybe that is what the doctor meant when she said to beware of strong negative “emotions”. Whether negative or not, I think it might also apply to over-confidence; that is a powerful emotion in itself.

The second is something I need to impress on methadone addicts. I will say this- you had better have your chickens in line BEFORE attempting detox. What I mean is you better be firmly grounded on a foundation of people that care only for your wellbeing. I don’t care if it’s an AA/NA sponsor(s), a spouse, parent(s) or whomever. You decide who(m) it will be, but the person(s) must be near at all times. Do not look around one night and find all you have are the wasps to talk to. Have you ever tried to talk a wasp out of stinging you? If so, how did that work out for you?

I’ll be true; I completely believe that had I still had any contact whatsoever with dealers and the like, I would have fallen last night. My wife came home, washed the kids, put them to bed, and then climbed into our bed without the slightest knowledge of what I had just been through. Still, having her warm body next to me was calming. I relaxed, let her positive energy envelope me, and went to sleep. It wasn’t easy, and I slept fitfully, but I slept. I’m awake today, stronger, having dealt with a severe attack on my will, by wasps I couldn’t see to swat. Thank heaven my wife was there with bug spray for¬†them shits. ūüôā