Category Archives: Journey to Myself

My thoughts and feelings as I purge this poison from my life’s blood. To read in chronological order you must scroll to bottom and hit the “older posts” button until the bottom post is “Methadone Addiction”- then read up.

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’s 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. 🙂

Sent Box

Something happened a few weeks ago that I feel should be here. The thing mainly has to do with my job, but the bigger picture made me realize it had to be posted. I can’t believe I almost neglected to see it as relevant to my journey.

We are addicts, and have been programed for at least as long as we have been addicted to be submissive. We submit to the drugs foremost, but that’s not all and we know it. At it’s core with addiction, we submit our right to a complete and fulfilling life. We don’t take what we want unless it aids us in acquiring our next high-a better word would be stealing. Fuck that! I have a story now of something that I have taken-I took it in the midst of this withdrawal storm, and I want to share it.

Some weeks back a position became available (where I work) that I knew would be better for me and my family. I went to the big boss of our department, and told him I wanted it. I explained how I knew it would be better for me, and he understood; I thought he understood. I also told him that I knew my immediate supervisor would be upset, but that I hoped he (big boss) wouldn’t use that as a reason to keep me out. The big boss assured me that he didn’t think it would be a problem.

I waited, and waited, and guess what happened? Nothing.

My supervisor had a fucking meltdown, and I heard one week later that they had begun outside interviews for the position. Very upset, I went in to see the big boss again. He explained to me that he went home, thought about what I had said all weekend, and decided it would be better if I stayed where I was. This made me angrier, and I let him know how very disappointed I was in his decision. I could not understand how a man with a family could deny another man with a family, the right to better himself.

At first I did what I was programmed to do-I submitted. I went around bitching to anyone that would listen. Then it hit me-what the fuck was I doing? I decided right then that I was going to make a stand. I knew it could cost me my job, but too many years being a submissive is becoming a fire starter now. Fuck you methadone!

My father taught me something years ago that I kept in my mind: Never go over a boss’ head unless you are sure you are right. I kept his advice in mind, and opened up an email to the vice president of the college where I work. Truth is, my father wasn’t sure (after I called him) about what I was about to do, but he couldn’t have known about the shift taking place inside me.  My letter was gracious, considerate, respectful, but firm. I was qualified for it, I had put in the time to get it, I wanted it, so I took it.

Within two hours of the “send” button being pushed, I was in my new position. Can you even imagine the feeling I had when the big boss pulled me back in, and explained that it never would have happened had I not forced his hand? It was almost as good as the feeling I had when he stopped me today for a quick chat. He told me he wanted me to know how much better the campus looked since I took the new position. Before I transferred, I was shipped between three campus’, and my work was rarely noticed.

Are there haters? Of course there are. The haters are also submissives that don’t take what they want in life. They live their lives exactly the way I did on methadone. Is a person truly getting everything out of life if they don’t go after whatever it is they want? I would say no. In landscaping there is a saying we use with old trees, and it applies here I think: It’s either growing or dying.

Why Did I Love Opiates?

I did love you. I loved you with my whole heart. I put every extra minute of my time into acquiring you. I made schedules for you, and planned events around you. I drove thousands of miles, and would have driven to the end of everything for you. I stole from my family, and lied to them too. All I did, I did for you.

You were in my thoughts constantly, and I thought we would be always together. There was a time I was convinced there was no other feeling I wanted than the way you could make me un-feel. You helped me forget about my mom, and my childhood. If only you had not made me forget about my kids too.

Why, after all these years of devotion, do you make me feel so sick to leave you? Are you clenching to my muscles, my stomach, my head because you love me too? I feel your grip, but it’s not as tight as it was yesterday. I’m pulling you off, and it’s about time for me to go.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, I am slipping away from you now. Every time I take less of you, I creep out as you’re sleeping. I walk out the door, and into the sun, but I still think of you. You know I do don’t you? You made me forget my kids.

Rigs and Methadone Clinics

I’m very pissed off this morning. I guess I should say “was” very pissed off this morning. I went to the methadone clinic to get my take-outs, and as you may or may not know, it is the week I’m supposed to go from 25mgs/day to 20mgs. As it turned out, that wasn’t to be this morning. When I stepped to the window, and said I wanted to decrease to 20mgs, the nurse informed me that it wasn’t going to be possible. Immediately, my blood began to boil as he (nurse) tried explaining that there was a new doctor, and they could no longer do anything (increase or decrease) without the doctor’s written authorization. Boy did I give that nurse an ear full.

First I told him that I thought that was a bunch of bullshit! I told him that I had been decreasing every 2 weeks for months now, and someone damn well should have called me to let me know about this new change. If they had, I’d have told them to go ahead and put the order through to have it ready when I picked up this morning.  To his credit, the nurse was very apologetic, and agreed with everything I was saying. I knew it wasn’t his fault, and I did tell him that. After I left the nurse’s station, I saw the clinic director’s door was open so I used the opportunity let him know too, just how unhappy I was.

The first thing I said was that I thought it was really shitty of that clinic, that is supposedly there to help us, to “interrupt” my decreasing in that way. I explained that this was probably the most important moment in my life, and for them to have a change like that, and not inform me, really showed what they were about.

He then tried excusing the circumstances by pointing out that the clinic serves about 1600 (I thought 2000), and that it would be impossible for them to call everyone to let them know of the change. However, I blew that shit up by asking him just how many of that 1600 were decreasing. After that, he was stumped because he knew that I was correct. They absolutely should have had the decency to call me and let me know of this change, and he knew it. If I was a person teetering on the edge, this kind of thing may have been just the kind of thing to stop my decreasing; instead, it actually had the opposite effect. If anything, this experienced served more in re-galvanizing my will to get up out of there than it anything else.

There was much more that I said to the director, but know this: White hot fire was coming from my mouth, and I wasn’t on 160mgs of methadone to tie my tongue. My words came out clear, concise, and there was nothing anyone at that clinic could say that would make the situation right. It’s a good thing that the director backed down too because this comes down to me getting my life back, and nothing is getting in my way. My rig is big right now, and I’m going to run you the fuck over if you are standing in my way.

The last thing he said to me as I walked out his door was to come see him again when I was at 0mgs. I felt nothing for him as I turned around and said, “you’ll see me again”. My heart tells me this is true, but not in the way he wants to see me. The next time he sees me, I may just have his neck in a dog collar instead of the other way around. What comes around huh? Maybe not, but I do feel there is a story about these places that needs to be told; no matter how comfortable I am in accepting consequences of my own actions.

About my dose: I ended up dosing, but didn’t use water to wash the bottom of the bottle out. Hopefully that was around 5mgs, but I really can’t be sure. I also only took three take-outs so I will be going back on Tues. to get the correct dose amount. I was going to do change my pick-up day anyway because we (the family) are going to be doing some vacationing next month and pick-ups on Friday won’t be possible. What I will do until Tuesday is just use the baby syringe to withdraw 5mgs/day. Fuck ’em!


Better Than I Used To Be

Things happen sometimes in the weirdest ways. This morning on the way to work my wife said she heard a song that really sounded like me. All she remembered was that it had the words, “I’ve got a few more dances with the devil”, and that it was sung by Tim McGraw. I came in to work and punched it in to Google and the song, “Better Than I Used To Be” popped up. I kid no one when I say I had never heard this song before. Definitely another “Rocket Man” moment. It matches so closely to where I am, at this moment-I just had to post it here. Have I ever said that I love music?

Thx wifey, you’re the best! Almost made me cry.


How I’m feelin’-22.5

Want to know how I’m feeling on 22.5mgs? Sit down and I’ll tell you. It’s quite a thing.

I look people in their eyes again-when I’m speaking or walking past. When I talk, people are listening.

People are looking at me again-something is different, but they don’t know what. They’ve told me how good I look. I know. I’m exuding man again, and I can feel others feeling it. Not conceit-truth is coming off these pages.

I’m taking back my life that’s mine, and holding on with everything. I’m passionate about living again because life is a gift. And that is a gift horse I never want to look in the face again.

I’ve never been a person that digs weather talking, or idle conversation. I talk about the weather now because I work outside, and it interests me. When I speak people are listening because it’s passion.

I’m about to whip a mean mother fucker, and I won’t be held back-at anything! I’m pinning this methadone fucker to the ground, and I’m not even using two hands yet.

My green eyes are on bright, and I don’t wear sunglasses  anymore. I take’em off because I want the sun in my eyes, shit. I’ve spent too many years behind doors when my soul is open.

I might even move the bed to the back yard so I can sleep in the open air. On second thought probably not-my wife doesn’t like bugs.

I’ll just stay inside at night and finally sleep good until morning. Mornings are where it’s at because mornings are fresh and new, and fresh is pouring over me now.

Want what I got now? Come get some!


Yeah, so what?

I have wasted years and years of my life being a bitch- yeah I have, so what? I lay down and let my addiction to drugs take vacations from me, presents for my kids, dates from my wife; the list could go on and on. Should I dwell on that now and let it chew the ground out from underneath me? No! Especially now, coming out of the fog, when things are becoming real again, I cannot let it destroy me. It tries though-man, does it try.

Instead I will focus on some of the good things that happened during that time. Sure there were some good things. Shit, I found one of the most beautiful people on this earth, and somehow held things together enough to marry her. We have had three unbelievable kids that have smarts beyond my wildest imagination. My four year old could say octagon, and knew what one was when she was turning two. Even if I didn’t have all this, I could still find positives in helping others with the knowledge I’ve gained about being an opiate addict. My life is mine, and I want to share all that I can about this methadone mother fucker.

Now that I am where I am, I can tell myself that today has been complete shit, and I am still 50 times happier than my best day on 160mgs. I think the reason is because I’m dealing with the problems that have been chucked at me rather than numbing myself to them. See what I mean? I don’t mean to say that I have this thing whipped, but I know I’m on the right track. A completely shit filled day and I can still say I’m a happy sum bitch.