On another blog…
Living as a junkie I was able to justify anything and everything. I was able to make sense of the senseless. After a while it was just a part of life, I couldn’t live with the drugs but I couldn’t live without them either. Love/ Hate relationships exist with drugs too.
I would have told you I got high to cope or forget, I got high to feel something, and sometimes feel nothing at all, I got high to be a part of something or to distance myself from everyone else. I got high so I could be seen, and sometimes I got high so I could hide. It comes down to no logic; no sense of reason. Everything was nothing but fallacies, but I believed them because I had to. I was my worst enemy; I justified and reasoned against common sense, against logic,
It was a step of honesty for me to admit I was an addict and that I was powerless over it. I know what it is like to walk in darkness; I know the torment, agony, desperation, and sense of impending doom one feels when their lives are ruled by addiction.
I think recovery is an on going process that brings progress not perfection.
… NZFiends says…
I think life is an on going process that brings progress, not perfection.
And, as one of the rather more literate N.A members reminds me regularly..,
life is not for everyone.
Not everyone is suited to life.
“Life on life’s terms” being somewhat of an ingenious marketing ploy.
It has been a long time since I have had any contact outside of a short psych’ meeting with my daughter. The man hating idiots at the New Zealand (Wellington) Family Court finally got back to me with a court hearing date. 11 and 12 December.
Yes, that is correct. Six months since seeing my kid is the best that they can do to get a court hearing date.
In this state of affairs would have easily have been to go and get really high. For as long as possible. In fact, so fucken high I did not need to bother waking up for 90% of the day. Or week. Hell, 90% of the month could pass by. Who would care? What is the point?
I woke this morning feeling slightly cross with myself, but proud in the same moment.
- I was waking up thinking I should not have told someone on FaceBook what I thought of their spouse. Even though the subject would have never come up otherwise. I can bite my tongue for long periods. But she did say “I know you don’t think much of my partner, but…” So I told her a few things about why I did not like him. He is thick as all pig shit being number one. And yes, she does read this blog sometimes… And no, I don’t expect to get a Christmas card.
- I was not waking up in jail. I was not waking up nursing a hangover of any description. I was not waking up really sore from hurting myself or getting others to hurt myself for me.
Sure, I still don’t exactly enjoy waking up. All the bits that want to stay laying down protest violently about getting vertical. Then they occasionally spasm and twitch and tingle and go numb just to remind me that I really should be lying down until mid afternoon. I have been “vertical” now for a few hours. Have played Bubble Safari for half an hour (am now on stage 180 bitches!) have had the worlds strongest coffee (imagine four or five double shot short blacks with a splash of milk out the bottom of a should have been thrown away plastic milk bottle….) and am now contemplating what the fuck to do for the day.
This is dangerous.
This is where junky logic really does start working well.
I have nothing to do, so I can use
I have heaps to do, so I had better use to kill some pain and get moving.
Someone should draw a data flow diagram or similar…
In fact, I will. Be right back.
Okay, so I got a little sidetracked and found myself laughing my ass off at this instead. That is *so* me!
And so, that took a little longer than expected. An hour I think. Holy crap, I must need more coffee and to get out the house.