I have been struggling lately with the dark side of my addiction. When I decided to indulge myself into sobriety a year and a half ago I had no idea that life without drugs, alcohol, egotistical thoughts and selfish behaviors would still be so challenging. I had expended every outlet of mood altering drugs that my body could handle, and when I hit my rock bottom I hit so hard that I was willing to do anything to get the sour taste of shame out of my mouth for good. Sure, I have had spells of intense cravings to take the edge off, to take a puff of green, to drink an ice cold miller light and I miss the productivity that amphetamines gave me. I missed the party scene, the fun spurt of excitement that the fast lane of sex drugs and rock and roll brought to my life. I listened to hundreds of suffering addicts and alcoholics talk about relapse, about using dreams and the type of cravings that make your palms sweat. But I never thought that I could slip so easily back into my old habits. I convinced myself that once I reached serenity I had it for good. But unfortunately this wicked disease of addiction is something I have to deal with every single day for the rest of my life.
The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous tells us that we must shatter the romanticized pedestal that so many of us put our drug of choice on. I have to forget about the good times that I had drinking with friends, the laughs that came out of a lit bowl with my best friends, and had to let go of the idea that any pill can make me feel better. The truth is, for me, there is no such thing as a glass of wine with dinner or a couple of beers at a ball game. There is no such thing as smoking in moderation or saying no to a mood altering drug. I'd being lying to myself- and to you- if I told you that these things aren't appealing to me anymore. I think about them every passing minute of the day- luckily there are ways in which I have learned to quiet the voices enough to be able to function. But the thoughts, the fantasies, the memories, and the cravings are with me every breath, of every minute of every single passing day.
I have experienced a life of serenity, moments of organic happiness, a clear vision and a justified reason to live. You know I have learned a lot about myself, and I know that I am a really great actress. I can easily convince those around me that I am working an honest program, I can convince people that living a sober lifestyle is easy, and I can even convince myself that I've turned a leaf and have the will power to face addiction when it is convenient for me. Unfortunately- I won't be up for an Oscar anytime soon- ha, I can't even convince myself that things are O.K.
Today I went to an A.A. meeting and bounced my leg anxiously for the entire 56 minutes and 27 seconds that it lasted. My palms were sweaty, my mouth was dry, and I couldn't get the thought of marijuana out of my head the entire time. I didn't want a drink- that would require too much work to get drunk. I didn't want pain pills because they would take too long to kick in. But weed- shit I wanted nothing more than the THC to fill my bloodstream which would have only taken about two or three inhalations and a few rough exhalations. Even though it would only take me a few hits to get high- I would have smoked an entire Edith if it was in front of me. Not because I consciously wanted it- but because that voice in my head would have convinced me that I needed it- that I deserved it- and that God dammit I had to have it.
I went to get my tattoo touched up this afternoon and the cravings followed me. I was driving into Dinkytown and found myself categorizing the civilians on the sidewalk. I rolled my window down at one point at a stop light because I was convinced that I spotted a man that had to have been a pothead and maybe he could spot me a bowl. But the light turned green and I didn't have time to converse.
The insanity continues. It is always there. I don't want to smoke weed, feel out of control and spiral back down, but when I comply even for a second to the thoughts in my head- waving down a junkie in the middle of downtown Minneapolis is where I end up. This disease is so exhausting. Some days are better than others- some days are more manageable than others, and there are moments in which I can have peace. But not today. Today I am enduring the darkest facets of my addictive tendencies. Some days I want to throw my hands in the air and give up. Some days I think to myself- what is the point? Some days I would do anything to be a "normie".
I can't even think of time on a day-to-day basis right now. I am taking today minute-by-minute trying to get through the next breath without enacting on my cravings. You see, the dark side of my addiction is not that I don't know when to stop drinking, its not that I have a physical allergy to mood altering chemicals- but rather the dark side of my addiction consists of the persistent thoughts I think leading up to that first drink, that first puff, snort or swallow. Most days- I am my own worst enemy.
No comments:
Post a Comment