Tag Archives: loving life

Need anyone’s help

This is a very important post. I have been detoxing for nearly a year and have yet to actually speak face to face with someone that has detoxed from methadone. This cannot be good news. If this isn’t evidence that something is very wrong I do not know what is.

There is also something very wrong with a (methadone) clinic that rapes a person of their riches and many times eventually their life; all this while offering no program for escape. Please do not tell me of the few clinics that do because I believe they are just that- few. I have a problem with even those few too, because of the nature of the drug they push.

For many hooked on opiates including me, the clinic is a welcome respite from the street drug dealers we are used to interacting with. The clinical settings and all the perfectly crafted words combined with our desire to keep using lulls us into a feeling of security. That would be fine if the drug didn’t quietly take every other piece of you that the drug dealers left behind.

Silently at first, this drug weaves its way into every part of your being. It entangles then squeezes out everything down to the calcium in your bone marrow. I know because there is a permanent layer of calcium coating my toilet bowl. I have pictures, and I am not alone. Most just don’t realize or don’t want to realize what it is. If you survive, there will be a time you will realize what methadone did to you.

If you are on methadone, there will come a day when you will feel it woven around your neck. You will struggle because it will be uncomfortable, and sadly many will be choked to death. If you are one that begins the process of un-weaving, it will be a very slow and painful process. It is done one string at a time and every one is painful when pulled. It still can be done, and then you will think of want to do next.

I have come to believe life can be viewed hypothetically as a big scale. Rights and wrongs are on either side, and I believe we cannot be right until the rights outweigh the wrongs. Many of us dealt drugs to support our habit amongst other things, and some things worse than dealing. Many of the wrongs were done to ourselves, but wrongs they still are.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I know better than anyone that I never want to sit around a room and rehash my past over and over. That’s not what I’m saying. I mean helping others with the terribly painful process of pulling methadone strings. This is an awful experience and I believe it is our responsibility to help others never go through it alone.

It’s our responsibility because we need to balance the scales. I believe the clinics know this and that is why they have flooded the internet with so much pro-methadone bullshit. I know there are those out there that have quit, but finding them is the issue.

It can be done, but the methadone clinics will be damned if they facilitate a connection between us. That is why we must do it. We have to band together and pull people from the methadone clinic lines one by one. Then they start pulling their own strings.

I believe methadone is an evil in our society that we all must band together to rid. I know because I’m living it and there is nothing natural about it down to its manufacture. It is a synthetic opiate.

Methadone is man made by the worst in humans- the Nazis. Don’t believe me, look it up. It was name Dolophine after Adolf Hitler. If that isn’t enough proof for you, get addicted and see from where this evil comes. When it is choking the life from you, you will know.

One day I hope we can all look around and see many people we have helped regain all their senses. We were given these senses for a reason, and it wasn’t for them to be snuffed. After all, I believe we all deserve to smell the rain.

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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.

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.

ismelltherain