June 9th, 2022
I relapsed.
Unlike other previous times, overcoming the guilt and shame was very, very VERY difficult. I didn’t wanna show my face to meetings. I didn’t want to write. My sponsor called and called, and I am positive I made him feel bad by ignoring each and every time.
The pressure of leaving my old job and delving into a new one, the stress of possibly seeing family in a cousin’s graduation (we’re not all on speaking terms), the possibility of moving, just to name a few things, were all triggers. In the end its on me of course. But I’ve realized I still have some underlying emotional problems and baggage that I’ve put under the rug. Things that I thought weren’t issues all of a sudden, are.
Materially and career wise, I know have everything I want. I changed to job that is much more my skill set, with better pay, and with room for growth. I even got a side writing job. It’s pretty amazing, and I have recovery to thank for.
But seeing family has me mixed up on my own identity. There’s a new reservation… An overwhelming shame not that I am an addict, but one that is fearful to show that I’m queer. The fact that I’m typing this. I don’t know. I’m ashamed that I’m ashamed. Before the relapse, I had made a calculation: that the shame of using again was worth it rather than the shame of being judged by my hetero-normative family. Frankly, it’s still there. Knowing that this is a factor, and putting it out there, helps me think of counter-plan. I plan to overcome this too.
For now, I have to start all over again.