Hello to anyone that is reading this. It’s been a while. And a lot has changed.
Believe it or not, I relapsed (again). But this time, I decided to do something about it.
From the last time, I was in a dark place, as I usually am after a slip-up in the substances abuse category. I knew something had to give. My suicidal ideation again was re-instilled, and it was pretty convincing. I’ve had had it. When I talked to my psychiatrist, he said something though. He said, “Guy, I don’t think you truly want to kill yourself. I think your mind frames this issue as life or death, because that is what is at stake.” The problem was that I was actually considering it.
Now mind you, I had thought about moving to an SLE earlier last year. It was a just a thought. I went around poking at Pura Vida, Liferock and other places. I’m not going to say what place I ended up choosing, in case of any of you investigators you want to find me.
After that session, I was deep in thought. Something had to give, my mind told me. Something. I realized then and there that I needed to move. I lived in rural Sonoma County, a place so isolated and so hidden from close friends and family that it was easy to talk myself into anything. I felt alone and lonely because I was quite literally alone and lonely. Literally. It was at that moment I realized that whatever cause or source of sobriety was going to come from, it wasn’t going to come from me. Turns out, that was Step 2.
So I moved. I gave up my nice comfortable place, my nice (unused) grill, books, clothes. I gave up my stuff because I knew it was tethering me. If I had to clean up, it had to be a total change. It had to mean sacrificing my commodities for something greater. Not going to lie. It hurt. It hurt leaving home, it hurt giving up years of accumulated stuff. But in the end, stuff can come back. Stuff without being sober just isn’t worth the torment or the guilt or the ptsd episodes.
I’ve been clean starting this year. At this point, I’ve tried using in every which combination possible. It doesn’t work. I also now truly understand and know the 2nd step in recovery. I’ve been journaling weekly since my arrival at the SLE, which, all things considered, has been a pleasant surprise (I know!). I hope that in the weeks to come, I truly achieve what I set out to do when I requested this virtual space.
I hope that, at the very least, this site can open up some sympathy for us addicts. It. Is. Hard. But for those of us nutzos, ignoring the statistics and going against better judgement on all sides of the aisle, we try again, until it sticks. I have another month and my ninety in ninety, after years, will finally be complete.