Wednesday, September 12, 2012

The Prelude

So.  Here I am at the end of my rope.  My life is a disaster.  I have no custody of my children, I can't keep a clean room (let alone the whole house), I live in a halfway home, my back is a source of constant agony and I replace the pressure of responsibility with isolation into a world of fantasy, mostly of my own making. 

I've been palming pills, exchanging them for payments owed, selling them, snorting them, replacing meals with them and put my liver through the wringer. 

For all intensive purposes, I am an addict.  I always have been, but now it just has a label.  I hate labels, especially the most commonly accepted one: God.  More on that in Step Two I suppose. 

I gotta shake this shit or I will continue to spiral downward.  I'm terrified that my longing for death will someday outweigh my love for my daughter Serenity.  She is my world.  I would be dead without her, no doubt about it.  How can I be a productive and loving mother when all I'm worried about is my next bout of blissful absence of pain?

My mental illness is not well managed at the moment.  I take a mountain of medication day and night to keep myself stable and not self-destructive or homicidal.  So the buzz of my benzo's is a constant, but I'm told that so long as you do not abuse your meds and take them as directed only, it doesn't count.

Which is a good thing, because I'm a downright cunt without them.  To myself and others.  I didn't have a fresh notebook or anything, so Blogger is the next best thing.  I'm going to meetings six nights a week.  I've been clean for three days.  I earned a stupid white keychain.  AA members get chips.  Bastards.

My father is now twelve years clean.  I'm so proud of him, and though I can't stand him most days, I still love him and am in awe of his determination to lead a productive and functioning life.  A decade ago I don't think I could have said those things about him.  A lot of the damage he'd done to me in my life were the source of my desire to be high.  It took me seven years of distance for me to forgive him.

Now all I have to do is forgive myself, which is no short order.  I have delusions of worthlessness.  I don't deserve a lot of things, but being a manipulating fiend has earned me many highs and exchanges.  I don't believe in sin, I believe in being an asshole.  If that makes sense.

Call it a last ditch effort.  I'm going to work through this stupid NA book day by day (one at a time, as they say), and post the results I come up with here.  I'm not sure if it would help anyone else, but I'm doing this for me (and Serenity).  I have to do this, and be as honest as I possibly can be. 

I didn't wanna hurt you baby, but you're pretty when you cry
~C out

1 comment:

  1. Love your story - Can relate alot!
    Thanks for your blog, helping me do my steps :-)