Blast from the Past

I haven't had my netbook for quite some time, (1+ years) my awesome brother recently fixed it.. I found a few things I had written from way back in the day when I was FIRST trying to get clean/sober. The following were all written within my first 30 days of sobriety, (the first time) back in 2010. The first is a goodbye letter to drugs, the second/third are letters from Myself to "future me" and from "future me" to "past me" and the third was just for fun.. completely unedited, these were my first Sober thoughts. ENJOY!

#1　
Dear Heroin, Cocaine, Meth, Alcohol, and any mood/mind altering substance,
For years I believed that I loved you but now I am so happy to say that we are through. The moment my eyes opened it was you who I ran to. Shaking, sweating, puking desperate to feel you. You took away my fear, conscience and pain and gave me such a rush like I was going insane. I loved you so much and for so long. No matter how much I knew this way of life was wrong.
You stole everything that I had ever owned. Stole everyone I ever loved and then left me alone. You made me turn all my loved ones away. In the end it was only you who remained. I had to have you, you were my #1 priority, even if it meant going against the authority. I couldn't live without you, you became my obsession. I couldn't go anywhere without you in my possession.
If I tried a day without you, you would make me pay. You would make me so deathly ill I couldn't make it one day. You made me lie, cheat and steal and then your effect I could no longer feel. You put me in danger and made the worst of me come out. You made it so clear that it was you who I couldn't live without.
I never want to touch you ever again, you've ruined my life, why I choose you I don't know?
You're the worst thing that ever came into my life. Yes, I did love you but now it's time to say goodbye. You made me feel like I’m worth nothing at all, just a dirty junkie sticking needles in my arms. You're out of my life now, don't need you no more.
Wanted to kill myself a few times 'cause I couldn't go through it. Even tried once. Well guess what, I can and did do it. I can beat you anytime. I can control you, you don't control me.
I've got enough will power to get you out of my life for good. I'm strong and much stronger than you can ever be. I'm not losing anything over you. Goodbye heroin. Goodbye Cocaine. Goodbye Meth. I don’t need you today.
Love,
Mitch
　#2
Dear Future Me,

Wherever and whatever you may be, I hope that you are genuinely happy. When you go to bed you actually want to wake up the next morning and spring into action. I believe that you've accepted your limitations and recognized the full scope of your abilities. You know your likes and dislikes and are not afraid to voice them as the case may be.

If none of the above is true, and if you are still the sniveling creature that I am now, cowering in the shadows and wracked by bouts of rage and depression, I hope you put an end to your misery. Sell all your possessions and go out into the world. Take an indeterminate break. Yes, it'll be scary, but remember that a sense of uncertainty, even fear, means that you just might be on the right track. Life is risk. Deal with it. Or just kill yourself. I bet that painless technology to do that is already around. Donate your organs to individuals who really want to live so that you're existence might not have been entirely without meaning.
I am 13 days clean and hope to actually enjoy life soon. It might force me to open up to new experiences. And that's one thing you need - coercion and an organized plan. Stop resisting order and linearity. What are you so afraid of?
Hopefully, whatever you are doing it better not be heroin, cocaine, and meth, I'm proud of you. Good luck with the next few years, and remember, no matter how bad it gets, it could never be as bad as this last year, stewed in the juices of depression. But things are looking up for me, and you, so stay up

Love,

PastMe
　
　
Dear Future Me,

I decided this morning to live like Future Me. I decided if I did that I would learn to truly accept myself in the present. It means I can do exactly what I want to do with no more excuses. No more 'I can't do that because I'm' 'too fat', 'too poor', 'not good enough' etc., etc. Future Me doesn't have any of those problems. If I live like Future Me, I will become Future Me. At least that's the theory.

So Future Me, when you receive this I hope you're in a better place than I am right now. Hope you're over your “problem to a good extent, hope you're getting up and singing your heart out, hope you've finished that novel, hope you're in loads less debt. I hope you're helping people. And I hope you're not Future Me, any more, but Present Me. Does that make sense?

I hope you can look back when you receive this (how cool would it be if you forgot you wrote it and it was a total surprise) and feel bloody great that you moved on from this point.

Love Present Me. 　

#3 I used to be embarrassed and ashamed. I tried to hide my addiction and “fix myself.” I didn’t want anyone to know because who would understand? I got to a point where it was me or them. I couldn’t hide and get better. realized I do not have to regret my past because I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for where I have been. Do I care what they think or do I care about my life? I am a heroin addict, I am a meth addict, and I am a cocaine addict, I love anything that alters my mind/mood, AND, I’m pretty bad at roller-skating! My name is Michelle Rae Hansen, I was born August 17, 1988, would you like my social security number? Put me on the news, facebook, I’ll take the fame, I may be an addict, but my addiction is not going to be the death of me. I will die with an addiction, but NOT because of it. I plan on my headstone reading, “I’d rather be shopping.” Not, “I let dope put me in a hurse.” I am strong, smart, beautiful, and alive. I have scars from needles and I’m still alive to tell the story, and most importantly, I AM CLEAN AND SOBER! I have the ability now to help others. So call me a junkie, addict, dope fiend, I’ll take any label proudly. I have learned that I am who I am. I cannot change my past, I do not regret my past, I am who I am. I am grateful for my addiction because now I have the ability to help other addicts. So, give me my name tag, tattoo “addict” on me, and hand me my roller-skates.

"And you know that if anyone had a clue how wrong it felt to be sober, they wouldn’t dream of asking you to stay that way. They would say oh geez, I didn’t know. It’s okay for you. Do that mound of cocaine. Have a drink. Have 20 drinks."

If someone has cancer and they don’t treat it, most likely they’ll die. If someone with cancer is in remission, and their cancer returns, its sad and people support them unconditionally.

If someone has addiction and they don’t treat it, most likely they’ll die.  Yet, if someone with alcoholism stays sober for a while then drinks again, they’ve “fallen off the wagon“, “don’t want it bad enough”,  “or just aren’t ready.” If someone with an eating disorder, self harm, or other form of self-destructive behavior, falls back into old habits- "their never going to change" "hopeless" or “have no will-power“

I say bullshit. Can you imagine someone saying that to a cancer patient who’s cancer returns? “Guess they’re not ready and or just don’t want it bad enough…”

Even though in treatment I was told addiction was a disease, it was hard for me to accept. A part of me wanted to hold on to the idea that I could control my using, thus rejecting the entire disease concept. Each time I would end up at a new bottom, I slowly started to accept that maybe it was a disease after-all.

I had such low-self esteem as the result living years of self-destructive behavior. Now, it’s important to point out that this is NOT what I showed on the inside. And for the most part, not what I believed about myself on the inside. Alcoholism is the only disease that continually tries to convince those who suffer from it that they DO NOT have it. Conversely, I had what I was showing the world on the outside, confused with what I was feeling on the inside. As long as I had my shit together, I was OK. Truth was, inside I was dying a slow painful death. I can clearly look back and see that about myself today. Compared to the peace and happiness I have inside today, it’s night and day.

There’s some dialog in the movie 28 Days that sort of puts into perspective the mindset of an alcoholic or addict. The person speaking is Steve Bushimi’s character, Cornell:

“If that will make you happy, I will stop drinking. And then I would tell myself tonight I will not get wasted. And then something would happen. Or nothing would happen. And I’d get that feeling and you all know what that feeling is; when your skin is screaming and your hands are shaking and your stomach feels like it wants to jump through your throat. And you know that if anyone had a clue how wrong it felt to be sober, they wouldn’t dream of asking you to stay that way. They would say oh geez, I didn’t know. It’s okay for you. Do that mound of cocaine. Have a drink. Have 20 drinks. Whatever you need to do to feel like a normal human being, you do it. And boy I did it. I drank and I snorted. I drank and snorted. I drank and snorted. And I did this day after day, day after day, night after night. I didn’t care about the consequences because I knew they couldn’t be half as bad as not using. And then one night something happened. I woke up. I woke up on a sidewalk and I had no idea where I was. I couldn’t have told you what city I was in. And my head was pounding and I looked down and my shirt is covered in blood. And as I’m lying there wondering what happens next and I heard a voice. And it said man, this is not a way to live. This is a way to die.”

So you just keep going. And you know that the majority of people won't understand what it's like to wake up and immediately want to stick a needle in your arm every morning. To have "something" or "nothing" happen and want to use. The feeling of finally having control over something because you're starving yourself or turning to the blade. But then you're grateful- they will never know what this feels like, and you won't ever know what it's like to not feel like this. But somehow it's all okay, because you know through this crazy fucked up nonsense, we have found hope, peace, and serenity. I know for me had I never got to my bottom, being a needle stickin' junkie layin' in the psych ward begging for a pen and they won't give you one unless they're sitting with a nurse because you might hurt yourself. And then you leave and end homeless, carless, jobless, AGAIN- you have nothing- and then you realize you have a problem. At first the problem is you don't have enough dope to cope with all your problems, but then you realize you have to stop the dope. So you do, and you still have problems, but you can manage your life. I know if I hadn't have gotten to my bottom, I'd still be casually drinking away my life with no hope. But because I have failed over and over again- today I can succeed.

The amazing thing about recovery and the disease of addiction, is that as I become a useful member of society as a recovered alcoholic/addict, I represent those who are still drinking/using and have a chance. But I always think the same thing, “just stay alive.” As long as you’re alive, there’s a chance. If I can make it through the day sober.. that's a win. One day at a time, those "win's" add up and eventually I can help someone else "win."

All the spoons are in the dishwasher....

All the spoons are in the dishwasher. I'm grateful today that I  don't need one. 

 

Recovering from addiction requires more than just not using drugs. Last fall, I relapsed.... again.. It wasn't until December, that I finally realized this wasn't working. I couldn't live with drugs, but alas I could not live without them. Something had to change, but what? I finally realized that it's more than just not using. I am an addict. I don't have alcoholwasm. I have alcoholism. For a long time I was really bitter about the whole situation. I want to be able to drink. I want to be able to wake up in the morning and not have sticking a needle in my arm being the first thought. I don't want to be triggered every time I see a spoon, foil, syringes, etc. I want to be a muggle! a normi! whatever you call it that's what I wanted, and I emphasize the WANTED part. Past tense. Today I am grateful to say I am an addict. I have a problem, but I have found a solution. Don't get me wrong, it's not easy by any means. It's my own form of chemotherapy

One of the most profound realizations of my recovery was that I was entirely unable to treat the physical and mental aspects of alcoholism.  The mental infatuation with the promise of alcohol's relief and the physical compulsion to put as much of it in my bloodstream as possible were driven by a deeper pain and distress that I'd lived with so long that I could no longer identify it.  It was my factory setting, a unique wiring system that interpreted the world differently than my fellows and processed a debilitating form of self-centered fear with regularlity.

So it made sense that I could not "just not pick up the first drink," no more than a tuberculosis patient could just not cough.  It was not in my control.  Grasping this was virtually impossible:  it ran against everything I'd been taught about self-control to consider the idea that I could not control my arm lifting a drink to my mouth. It felt incredibly silly to say, yet when you looked at the track record-- wasn't it true?  Had I not proven time and time again that I was without power against the first drink or drug?

 

Reactions. I have hundreds of them every day.  Stimulation and information come in-- through my ears, my eyes--  are processed by my hard drive, a reaction is created and then presented back to the outside world.

As an addict, I was born with a corrupt hard drive. It tends to over-interpret information, and consequently over-delivers the reaction.  This typically creates more over-stimulation and over-reaction.  I feel at odds with the world (restless, irritable and discontent) and only alcohol and drugs soothe this for me. Alcohol "treated" my alcoholism-- for a little while.  Unfortunately, by the time I understood that alcohol and drugs had betrayed me, I was unable to stop using them.

The internal rearrangement brought about by working the 12 steps begins the process of debugging the hard drive.   We become aware that our reactions are fueled by faulty information and out of proportion to the situation and the world around us.  We begin to understand that our role and behavior is what we can effect. We see self-righteous anger as a dubious luxury.

As the hard-drive gets better, we recoginize the folly of our immediate reactions.  They still come-- deprogramming takes time-- but we are able to detach and see them.  And we do something we could never do before-- we pause.  We breathe.  We pray.  We call people. We go to a meeting.  The reaction is not given permission to launch. 

Each day I ask for my thinking to be directed, for awareness and for my higher power to stay clean with me throughout that day.  I can't say I'm going to stay clean for ever at this point. I really really love heroin, cocaine, meth, xanax, needle, etc.... It's a lot to say I'm going to stay clean for ever, but I know I can stay clean today, 30 more minuet-that I can handle. Tomorrow I'll do the same thing. One day at a time... WE DO RECOVER!

Today I choose recovery

“We did not choose to become addicts.” Basic Text, p. 3 ––––=–––– When we were growing up, all of us had dreams.  Every child has  heard a relative or neighbor ask, “What do you want to be when  you grow up?”  Even if some of us didn’t have elaborate  dreams of success, most of us dreamed of work, families,  and a future of dignity and respect.  But no one asked, “Do you want  to be a drug addict when you grow up?” We didn’t choose to become addicts, and we cannot choose to  stop being addicts.  We have the disease of addiction.  We are not  responsible for having it, but we are responsible for our recovery.   Having learned that we are sick people and that there is a way of recovery,  we can move away from blaming circumstances—or ourselves— and into living the solution.  We didn’t choose addiction, but we can choose recovery. ––––=–––– Just for today:  I choose recovery.

while you are sitting there judging my life, yours is passing you by!!

does anyone else hate being an alcoholic or addict?

first off, is the stigma attached to the label.
with the exception of those in recovery, the
general public has no conception of what it
feels like to be in our shoes.

next is the constant scrutiny of when we are
going to screw up.
many of our past attempts and failures give
people good reason to be suspicious.

the thing i miss the most is the social aspect.
whether it was the beer at the ball park, or
choosing a wine for dinner, there was something
enticing about drinking for relaxation or just
lessening the inhibitions(shy folks know what i mean)

of course no one misses the final stages of compulsive
drinking; but for those who took a long time to get to
that stage, there are good memories to draw from.

so until someone invents a pill that allows me

to drink or use safely, i will keep those former days as just that; memories.

September twenty eleven

So I had surgery on September 7th, they had to repair a torn ligament and take out a big chunk of bone. Funny story, they put in a pain pump, lidocaine. I went back to the dr. a week later and he said, the lidocaine should be basically gone, and I'm like what? I still have most of it and he says "haven't you been pushing the button to dose yourself" "what button" oh geez, nobody told me about the damn button. so I made it the first week with little pain relief. It's been almost two weeks now, and it's slowly getting better, I am on crutches for roughly six weeks, (non weight bearing) and hopefully this will fix my years of problems and ultimately the beginning of my addiction.

I just got back from St. George with my Grandma, grandpa, aunt, mom, and sister. We went to Tuachan to see Grease and the little mermaid! Amazing! For TLM they flooded the stage to make it look like the ocean, it a really fun trip. We even got to stay in the presidential suite, we had a hot tub on the deck, which was awesome, except that, hmmm... im in a cast. sad day.

Also Thought I'd add this for my addict friends, and hell for those of you who aren't, maybe it'll help you understand, uh, something :)

If God spoke to AA he might have said: 

Into your weak and feeble hands I have entrusted a power beyond your estimate.  To you has been given that which has been denied the most learned of your fellows.  Not to scientists or statesmen, not to wives or mothers, not even to my priests and ministers have I given this gift of healing other alcoholics, which I entrust to you.  It must be used unselfishly.  It carries with it grave responsibility.  No day can be too long, no demands upon your time can be too urgent, no case too pitiable, not task too hard, no effort too great.  It must be used with tolerance, for I have restricted its application to no race, no creed, and no denomination.  Personal criticism you must expect, lack of appreciation will be common, ridicule will be your lot, your motives will be misjudged.  Success will not always attend your efforts in your work with other alcoholics.  You must be prepared for adversity, for what men call adversity is the ladder you must use to ascend the rung toward spiritual perfection.  I shall not exact of you beyond your capabilities.

You are not selected because of your exceptional talents; and be careful always, if success attends your efforts, not to ascribe it to personal superiority, that to which you can lay claim only by virtue of my gift.  If I had wanted learned men to accomplish this mission, the power would have been entrusted to the physician and the scientist. If I had wanted eloquent men there would have been many anxious for the assignment, for talk is the easiest used of all talents with which I have endowed mankind. If I had wanted scholarly men, the world is filled with better qualified than you who would have been available. You were selected because you have been outcasts of the world, as your long experience as a drunkard has made, or should make you, humbly alert to the cries of distress that come from the lonely hearts of alcoholics everywhere.  Keep ever in mind the admission that you made on the day of your profession of A.A.-- namely, that you are powerless, and that it was only with your willingness to turn your life and will into my keeping that relief came to you.

Think not, that because you have been dry one year or two years, or ten years, that it is the result of your unaided efforts. The help which has been keeping you normal will keep you so just as long as you live this program which I have mapped out for you. Beware of the pride that comes from growth, the power of numbers and invidious comparisons between yourselves, or your organization with other orginizations whose sucess depends on numbers, money and position. These material things are no part of your creed. The success of material organization comes from pooling of joint assets: yours from the union of mutual liabilities. Appeal for membership in material organizations is based upon a boastful recital of their accomplishments: yours on the humble admission of weakness.  The motto of successful commercial enterprise is: "he profits most who serve best." The wealth of material organizations, when they take the inventory, is measured by what they have left: yours, when you take moral inventory, by what you have given.

Stopping vs. stayed stopped.

Most likely because I had lots of practice, I became pretty good at stopping using. The pain and embarrassment would typically reach a level that negated the benefits of continued using, so I would dig deep and summon the willpower to stop. The act was usually accompanied by dramatic promises of some sort; maybe a vow to eat better, take vitamins or join a gym.  There had to be some new wrinkle to convince myself I wasn't simply repeating the madness of the last time.  Some of these "cures" took on a pathetic, gimmicky quality:  I can remember one time thinking that a new breakfast cereal or tattoo might just be all that stood between me and a lifetime of sobriety.

Yeah, stopping was no picnic, but it was relatively easy compared to "staying stopped." That part of the deal-- the ongoing sobriety--always proved tricky for me.  Astonishingly, even the grandest plans to mold a new sober existence sometimes lasted only a day or two.  Or I'd make it a week, pronounce myself not an addict or alcoholic, and celebrate by using and drinking alcoholicly for a couple weeks.  

When I stop using, the first part of me that gets well is my body.  No spiritual program of recovery is required for my organs and systems to return to normal function.  They simply need the absence of drugs and time.  It's painful to get through, but usually a few days/weeks of shaking and sweating is enough to get you feeling reasonably normal again.  

So the body is restored painfully but quickly(in the scheme of things).  The appetite returns.  We begin to feel normal (ok, less abnormal). And it's at this point, just as we're physically out of the woods and feeling human again, that the battle shifts from stopping to "staying stopped."  Our momentum is no longer fueled by physical pain or our embarassment over that late night facebook post.  So our resolve gets revised.

Geez.  Maybe I overreacted a bit.  I mean, sheesh, it's not like I murdered anyone!

It's not that we forget what happened, we just remember it differently.  This is addict/alcoholic thinking-- a subtle rewriting of history with the edges softened just enough to permit us to use again.  It's also Grade-A, un-cut insanity, but it doesn't feel that way.  It feels normal.   You see, an insane mind cannot identify an insane thought.

 Abstinence treats the physical aspect of addiction-- after a period of time, we no longer suffer from the CONSTANT irresistable urge and craving.  We feel well.  We go to NA/AA meetings and share just how much better things have become--and they have: we've stopped wetting our bed, can form basic sentences, and we're remembering our conscious moments.  Life is almost normal. 

So normal, in fact, that we believe we can use/drink like normal people.

Addiction is so cunning that it is willing to starve for a period of time to convince us we're OK.  It patiently waits for our momentum to die.  And rather than re-emerge in a fantastic flurry, it quietly creates a mental blank spot where we are unable to summon the memory of our experience.  I always fell for it quietly.

"Staying stopped" is not about abstinence.  It's about understanding the futility of abstinence alone, of recognizing the Groundhog Day life we're leading.  We stay stopped when we recognize the futility of our will, and become willing to do whatever is required to be relieved of the madness.  When we are restored to sanity through working the steps, we are no longer prey to strange mental blank spots.  We are aware and present. We'll always be addicts and alcoholic, but we have recovered from the inability to distinguish the true from the false.