Sunday, December 30, 2007

Get Up, Suit Up, Show Up

One of the things we hear in meetings over and over is “Get up. Suit up. Show up.” When I went into exile from life and made my home in a coffin at the end of the world, get up, suit up, show up was about all I was able to do – and then only out of necessity. The drugs aren’t going to go get themselves. If I had waited too long, if I had not saved something to help me get up and on my way, if there was nothing to be had when mine ran out, I was in for a painful and difficult spell. Get/Suit/Show up, at that point, was not consciousness, willingness or effort. It was a biological function of addiction, like breathing. That is what it feels like to be an addict. In the coffin at the end of the world, drugs and alcohol become your oxygen. The only path I could see before me was heartbreaking and enduring it required anesthesia.

The anesthesia wore off, stopped working, and God showed me a different path if I would have it. Of course I would have it. All I had to contribute, though, was my willingness to make the effort, which, in the beginning, meant getting up, suiting up and showing up. It took me five days to get up. It took another week or so to suit up and arrange to get to treatment. It took another couple of weeks to work out those details and to show up there. Walking in the door, I believed that treatment was going to give me the tools and self-knowledge I needed to overcome the obsession and compulsion. It had not occurred to me that anything more would be required.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

"To Addicts Who Won't Listen"

I destroy homes, I tear families apart, I take your children, and that's just the start...
I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold, the sorrow I bring is a sight to behold...
If you need me, remember I'm easily found, I live all around you, in schools and in your town...
I live with the rich, I live with the poor, I live down the street, and even next door...
I'm made in a lab, but not like you think, I can be made under your own kitchen sink...
In your child's closet, and even in the woods, if this scares you to death, well it certainly should...
I have many names, but there's one you know best, I'm sure you've heard of me, HEROIN you choice of test...
My power is awesome,, try me you'll see, but if you do, you may never break free...
Just try me once, and I might let you go, but try me twice and I'll own your heart and soul...
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie, you do what you have to, just to get high...
The crimes you'll commit for my Heroin charms, will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms...
YOU'LL LIE TO YOUR MOTHER, STEAL FROM YOUR DAD,
WHEN YOU SEE THIER TEARS..YOU DON'T EVEN FEEL SAD...
But you'll forget your morals, how you were raised, I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways...
I'll take kids from parents, and parents from kids, I turn people from God and separate friends...
I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride, I'll be with you always, right by your side...
You'll give up everything, your family, your home, your friends, your money, and you'll be all alone...
I'll take and I'll take, until you have nothing more to give, and when I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live...
If you try me be warned this is no game, if given the chance I'll drive you insane...
I'll ravish your body, I'll control your mind, I'll own you completely, your soul and you'll be all mine...
The nightmares I'll give you while lying in bed,the voices you'll hear from inside your head...
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see, I want you to know, these are all gifts from me...
But then it's too late and you'll know in your heart, that you are mine and we will never part...
You'll regret that you tried me, they always do, but you came to me, I didn't come to you...
You knew this would happen, you were told, but you challenged my power, and chose to be bold...
You could have said no, and walked away, if you could live that day over, now what would you say???
I'll be your master, you will be my slave,I'll even go with you, when you go to your grave...
Now that you have met me, what will you do??? Will you keep me or not, it's all up to you...
I can bring you misery than words can tell, take my hand, and I will lead you to hell...!!!

Friday, December 28, 2007

Is is this really happening AGAIN?

He's in Jail... he's actually been in there for about 3 weeks now. He got arrested a few days befor i left for my trip. I have not spoken to him since. I will explain more later i just had to get that much off my chest for now at least.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Sweet Relief

I haven't really talked about it on this site but I've had to endure watching my brother in active Oxycontin addiction. Because of everything I've been through with my own Oxycontin addiction it has been really tough for me.

Back in early November I actually took the age old advice of accepting the things I cannot change pertaining to this situation. I had to be really honest with myself about this.

Accepting a situation doesn't take the fear out of it. I was constantly fearing the worst. I was afraid that it would take an accidental overdose or incarceration to make my brother change his ways.

Yesterday I got some bittersweet news. My brother has finally reached that point that most addicts come to...the bottom. He has finally had that click in his brain that let him realize the severity of his situation.

Like I said this is bittersweet for me. I'm so relieved that finally he is taking a step in the right direction and at the same time I have a lot of sadness connected to this situation.

This comes from me knowing exactly what he will have to face in his very early recovery. It also comes from the fact that my mother and father need to face the realization that two of their children have addiction problems. Just as any parent would, they are asking themselves why. They are wondering what they did wrong, how they could let this happen.

There are no answers to those questions. They are great parents...it's just the way it worked out.

I'm hoping that just as I had to accept this situation as one of those things you just cannot change, they will be able to do the same.

Thanks so much for listening, I just needed to share.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Monday, December 17, 2007

Bad habits

I wanted to post a Thing about getting rid of bad habits but decided to post it on my blog site. I sole it from another blog and I believe it had been swiped from somewhere else. Any way its good. Just jump on over to my blog to read it.

http://thefirstchakra.blogspot.com/

Saturday, December 15, 2007

anyone alive out there




come on guys i need readin material, i need feedback on my entries, whats goin on? Every one in hibernation mode for the winter? I think everyone should post an entry on their blog about today. What you did or are going to do today. How you feel today. What you learned today. Even what you ate today! Just write. It's healthy to write to get your feelings and thoughts outta your head and out in the open for people to reflect on and learn from.




I'll give you a cookie......

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Sponsor

I'm going to be a sponsor. Someone asked me after our meeting where we talked about working the 12th step. My first reaction was fear. This is someone with years in the program. She has had multiple sponsors and is a sponsor herself. They say that what you should look for in a sponsor is someone who has what you want. My worry was that she has way more that I want than I could ever have what she wants. Whenever she shares in meetings, it helps me. I don't know if I've got what she needs. But then, I decided that it's not up to me to decide what she wants. It's up to me to decide about my own willingness. I'm willing, and she says she wants this. So, after the holidays, we're getting started. Anyone with ESH to share on being a sponsor, I'd love to hear it.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Finally

Today, I got the call!!! I am picking my baby up tomorrow!!!! He is really coming home!!!!!

Saturday, November 24, 2007

MeMe

Here's the rules:

  • Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
  • Post these rules on your blog.
  • List seven things you're grateful to have learned in recovery.
  • Tag seven people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
  • Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog. Scout


1. That there is a God.
2. And I am good enough to have a god.
3. How to be honest even when a lie would appear to serve me better.
4. Learned how to trust another human being.
5. Know how to walk though lifes ups and downs without picking up.
6. Mastered the art of calling someone and asking for help.
7. That I am only as sick as the secrets I keep.

I am tagging:
1.Erinsav
2. Inmates Wife
3. Tanya Marie
4. Married to my ex
5. EJ
6.Missunderstandings
7. Some how would like to share

Friday, November 23, 2007

Just a little rant

Why is it so hard to end relationships?
Why do we stay with people who make us unhappy?

I always used to watch those lifetime movies about the wives whos husbands would treat them horribly, beat them and cheat on them. They would stay with him until he killed her or until she killed him. I always used to ask my self "How could anyone stay in such an abusive relationship?" i never got it...

I'm not saying i get it now.. but it kinda makes more sense to me. He didn't abuse me deff not physically anyway. But there is the emotional abuse whether its intentional or not, It's there.
I continued to say. Do i like to get treated like shit? Do i like to be made to feel like a fool, like I'm worthless?

I can't seem to get it..Why stay? Why did i stay for so long? and im still dealing with this we are "broken up" but idk. It's really bothering me. Why do i stay and continue to feel like shit and cry everyday? Why do i let someone get the best of me and continue to make me feel this way? Am i really that weak?

...Cry for help...

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Gobshite?

I have been tossing and turning since I posted that last post. Mostly because it somehow feels like self serving gobshite ( a word I can't seem to get out of my head). Fuckery.

It isn't. Fuckery, that is. Self serving- perhaps. Fuckery? No.

It's just that I came from such fabulous insanity, and the only way I could spend my life, intimately, with someone else is if they, too, experienced insanity. Why?

I don't know, other than that is the only thing that ever felt right. I needed someone that was broken- too.

But, there is a catch to this broken. Who ever I was to be with had to be broken, but then they had to pull themselves up from the depth of despair with their finger nails and chose to live for themselves. Chose to live well, despite the odds. Fuck the odds.

What would you expect of a little girl who spent the first conscious years of her life in the grips of a man who laughed at her as she wore the mess of his abuse? And, who had to laugh with him, or he would give her something to cry about. Then this little girl spent occasional Sundays submersed in alcohol induced insanity- with her real father who she didn't know and never would. And grandparents, one of which who only grabbed her preteen breast on special holidays, when he was really drunk, after her grandmother urged her physically to "sit on your futhers knee . Go...veronna(again, she meant grandfather)." The cheek of him and her.

Where would you expect that little girl to be? On the street, selling her body? You wouldn't be alone. I saw it in there eyes as I grew up, rebellious- they thought I was there.

Oh, dear.

And then there is a boy.

This isn't a sad story- although, I understand it evokes that emotion. It is just a story about a girl and a boy, who against the odds grew up, grew up to want something more for themselves. Chose to live well, to live happy. Then they met each other.

Considering my requirement of having someone in my life that could appreciate life the same way I did and do, I think that the odds are incredibly small that, who ever that person was, that they wouldn't have addiction issues. I think, that I am not addicted to anything more sever than cigarettes is amazing.

So, there it is. Beside me stands a man that can understand and know where I came from and I him- and, we don't have to talk about it. It just happens, that after all that, he is a heroin addict... in recovery.

My point being- sometimes it's not that people choose to stay with an addict, they chose to stay with someone that has an addiction.

I think there is a difference. I know there is.

mantra: there but for the grace of god go I

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Scared, Confused, Unsure

I have a friend, and it is really a friend, not me saying I am the friend. Anyway, he is using, shooting 6 bags of H a day, and then using coke at night. Well, long story short, he is wanting to be clean. So, he bought suboxon, and is using it himself, no doctor involved. Stupid, yes. I know this. He is in a half way house, and due to that, he can not go to a doctor, or he goes back to prison. That really isn't what is important right now, what is important is that he took his first pill, and went into full blown withdrawal. I called a dear friend of mine who has some knowledge of this stuff, to see what to do next. He did not know. So, I call my friend back, and tell him just wait it out, don't do anything, he says to me "Too late, already took another one." This was freaking hours ago, and now I can not reach him at all. His cell is off, and I am just so scared for him. I don't know what the hell to think, to do, anything. For all I know he is dead. I just don't know. I told him that if he is feeling anything that feels wrong, tell someone and get to the ER. From what little I know about this stuff, I think he is really playing with some serious fire here. Doing this without a doc is dangerous, from what I am reading, it is more dangerous than using. I am so scared for him, and so confused. He was calling me so much early this morning, telling me how he is feeling, waiting to be in hard withdrawal to take the stuff. Now, nothing. All day, since like 3:00, nothing. I am feeling panicky, nervous, scared to death for him. I don't know what I can do, really, there is nothing I can do. Just sit and wait, to see if I hear from him. I just wanted to get some of this out, I can't hold all this inside of me. I am ready to burst from all the shit I have going on in my life, and now this. I am praying he is ok. Anyone know what this shit is about?? Thanks for listening.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Question

I was wondering something so i thought id post the question here.....

Does using Heroin make you break out in a rash?
Or just break out at all?

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

My two cents

I'm really sick. Its all on me and now I'm living with it. I'm not the only one in the world that is sick and doing this awful treatment and certainly not the only addict that has had a hard time doing interferon. It seemed easier the first time I did it but it didn't work. oh well I'm not the only one.

I actually feel good enough today to read a few blogs. I'm glad this one is still here. Thank you Erin for taking care of it. I'm glad you have chosen not to censer as long as its a drug related rant. I'm only supposing that was the case because I didn't read it. I've gotten a few very weird, not related to my blog responses and I have chosen to delete them. Now I mean weird and it takes alot to weird me out.

And I have been censored from blogs. My stuff gets a bit two four lettery sometimes but I usually try to stay in the spirit of things and sometimes a good number of four letter words is the way I choose to express that. But I bet that wasn't what was up at the cut blog here.

I agree with EJ. Ive never been kicked out of an NA meeting because of what I had to say. And only got asked politely at an AA meeting to refrain from so much drug talk. After reading the traditions I was much more careful about how I worded my drug talk as it has a profound impact on whether I drink eventually or not. But that's another story. I'm just glad I found NA when I did.

And I am way grateful to all the people who choose to share their recovery online in the manner that they do. I''m way to sick to go to a meeting tonight. And I believe there is some real depth to online sharing. I have gotten close with a number of people here. And also find I am staying in touch with people I have known in recovery for over 20 years but we don't live in the same part of the country any more.

Sorry if I am a bit rambley tonight. I really didn't feel like typing but I feel this is such an important blog that I'm doing it anyway. Thanks for the little piece of online program.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

In The Future

A few people have chimed in about the removal of a post because of it's content. I appreciate anyone who weighed in on the subject.

At the advice of EJ I re-read the posting rules that are on the site and I agree that in the future there should be no censoring of content. Instead, there will be a strong warning placed at the beginning of the post.

I think that this will satiate everyone and I hope that there are no hard feelings. I also appreciate everyone's patience while I try to get acclimated to the moderator role.

Keep Writing

Monday, November 12, 2007

Censoring - There Is A First Time For Everything

Although The Write Thought is an open forum, we need to be respectful of all members. I was recently contacted by a few members regarding something that was posted earlier today.

I read the post in question and while it was beautifully written, very descriptive and well put...it didn't really have the qualities that would make it a beneficial post on The Write Thought.

Although I am not a big fan of censoring, I do think that if an entry is posted with no other reason than to explain how to go about getting high...it doesn't fit in with what The Write Thought is about.

Please feel free to voice your opinion on this subject. I am open to suggestions on how to handle this type of thing in the future. For now, I got a few complaints and I felt that the best thing to do was to remove the post.

Thanks
Erin

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

HELLO??? ANYONE??? ANYONE AT ALL???


WHERE IS EVERYONE?? I know we all have our own blogs, but come on people. No one is posting, no one is even commenting. What is going on??

My life is finally turning around. My Joe is coming home in 4-5 weeks. He is finally going to be home with us, where he belongs. He has been in prison long enough, we need him now. Things with the best friend are done, over, which is the best thing for me. I was hurt, but now I am not, with giving myself time and talking to my Joe, I see things clearly now. And it is defiantly for the best.

The kids are all doing great, waiting for daddy to come home. I am so thankful. Thankful for the wonderful family God has graced me with, for all the people around me who love me, and accept my love. I am so thankful that I have a second chance at life, with my husband and children. I am also thankful to all my blogger buddies, who read my blog and give me encouragement. I would not have been able to make it through all of this with out you.

I am thinking, I should change the name of my blog once Joe is home. Scout pointed that out to me when we were all helping her choose hers. Soooooooooo, all of you talented writers out there get your thinking caps on, I need some help. Tell me your idea's for the new title. I am going to keep the link the same, just do a "Part two" if you will---Eric's idea! Well, I hope someone reads this, comments, and people start posting again. This blog is great, it is so awesome to have, and no one is taking advantage of this outlet. Come on people, start typing!!!!! Please!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, November 2, 2007

Staying In The Moment

It's really important for myself to be able to stay in the moment. I have found that by avoiding things like dwelling on past mistakes or worrying about the future I am usually able to get done what needs to get done when it needs to get done.

Within the past couple of days I keep finding myself not staying in the moment. I'll catch myself thinking about past situations that didn't go the way I wanted or things that I feel guilt about.

This usually starts a vicious cycle of me feeling bad about myself, avoiding doing something that I'm supposed to out of lack of confidence, and then dreading what the future will now hold because of my lack of action.

I guess this type of thought process fits right into an addictive thinking pattern but what makes that pattern pop up here and there? I can be going along great, focusing on what I should be focusing on and then...boom. I'm back in a destructive pattern again.

The only good thing I am finding is that I can spot this sort of trend pretty early on and then do everything I can to stop doing it. I guess this means that I'm allowing myself to be more self-aware and by doing so I am able to stop destructive patterns before they get way out of hand.

I'm just curious if this is something that others in addiction recovery have found about themselves? Do you catch yourself falling back into your old way of thinking? Could this be me catching myself at the beginning of what could ultimately turn out to be a relapse?

Monday, October 29, 2007

Having Fun

I am really fortunate in that this year has been great for me. I entered into rehab on January 26th and here it is October 29th and I feel that I'm doing really well.

So well in fact that I've noticed myself doing something that I never would have thought possible last year at this time...having fun without drugs.

Saturday night I went to a Halloween costume party. I dressed up as Miss Piggy...pretty awesome costume in my opinion. You can give me your opinion as I posted a picture of myself in costume on my site. Check out my Miss Piggy get up.

Last year at this time I was becoming very hopeless in life. I had begun to believe that I got myself into a situation that there was no getting out of. I used to sit and hope that a tree would fall on my house crushing me in my bed or that I would get a horrible terminal disease.

I didn't realize that all I needed to do was ask for help. I'm glad I finally figured that out. Now I'm hopeful in life again. I enjoy the small stuff in life that puts a smile on my face. Sadly it was the small stuff that I was missing out on when I was actively addicted because I was almost oblivious to anything other than wanting and needing drugs.

So it is with great pleasure that I dressed up this year for Halloween. I'm having fun again, I don't know how I lived without it in the past.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

My Blog...

I know I said that I was taking a break from writing. I have changed my mind, but I do need to make my personal blog private. So those of you who wrote me off to early retirement (JW), I wanted to let you know that I will be bringing my blog back. Please send me an email if you would like access.

Sorry for using space here to promote my own agenda ;)

Thanks,
Ej.

Great Expectations

I don't have expectations. Expectations in your life just lead to giant disappointments.
Michael Landon

I am struggling with something right now because I had expectations. And I was let down.

When I have expectations about a person, place or situation, it almost always will fall short of my standards or what I imagined it to be. It is alright to have a goal and work towards it. It is alright to have principles of personal integrity. However, it is not alright for me to live with expectations.

Here are some definitions of expectation(s):

(1) Prospects, especially of success of gain
(2) eager anticipation
(3) belief (mental picture) of the future
(4) the feeling that something is about to happen

All of those definitions point to the fact that I believe I have control. I believe I can can call the shots in my life.

I am powerless over the players in this game of life. I can't set expectations because I will always want them to play out in my favor, and I will be let down. I can't always "eagerly anticipate" because sometimes the best things in life come to those who wait. My mental picture of what lies in the future (as one person) is too narrow, and probably way off target, for something as profound as humanity and the world.

I can set my mind to a goal (which is defined as the result or achievement toward which effort is directed). A goal is working in the present. I cannot EXPECT that I will reach my goal, but I can put in as much effort and integrity as I can to get there.

And if I am not successful with my goal, life goes on. I will have to accept the positive or the negative, as when I live without expectations, the outcome will be a wonderful surprise to me. If it's good, then I am even happier. If it's bad, then I won't be so disappointed and I'll learn from it.

Now, though, I'm paying the price because I didn't follow that simple quote above.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Losing another person

It seems that not only are the seasons changing, but everyone around me is also. My best friend, for lack of a better word right now, is just acting like someone I do not even know. We have always been so connected, and now, I have no idea who she is. She has a new love, they are engaged, they are a wonderful couple. He has the most beautiful 2yr old little girl. My best friend referred to her as her daughter once, and I was very taken back by that. Her and her man have only been together for 2 1/2 months, and as a mother, I find her referring to this beauty as hers a bit offensive. Parenthood is not something you just throw on, like a jacket for the day. It is huge, like HUGE. Now, this has nothing to do with love, bc I know my friend, and I know the love she has for this child. I am just a bit shocked really, that her father would allow this. I find it so disrespectful to her mother. Now, that being said, I do not think that after time, like a year or so, she could not refer to her as hers. She has said to me, in the most smart ass tone ever, "I didn't know there was a book" well, now we all know there is no book, just common sense. At least that is my feeling. I also told her that this really has nothing to do with me, and as long as they are all ok with this, that is really all that matters. Now, everything is different. She is extremely angry at me, and I do not understand it at all. All I said to her was I was a bit shocked, after only 2 1/2 months, to hear that was a definite shocker.
I can not get my hands around this one. Her man and I did not hit it off so to speak. BUT, it got to be a huge problem, so I picked up the phone, spoke to him, telling him that we need to find a middle ground here, because her not being in my life is simply not an option for me. Although now, it appears that is just what she wants. I was speaking to my sister about this earlier, and she said that her opinion is my friend simply has to have conflict in her life, and honestly in my sisters opinion, she can not handle more than one person in her life at a time. So, now I am left feeling as if I was just someone to pass the time until she found her love. I am not upset over her finding her love, I am very happy for her. I know the pain she felt with out him, and now she is happy. I want her happy. I have always wanted her happiness, which is why I called him in the first place. He put her in the middle of us, a place she has no business being. I still feel deep down that he does not like me, or Joe, and really wants us to not be friends. That being said, I guess he won that one. She is being so mean, so distant, and just flat out a bitch to me. I am really at the end of my rope with all of this. I am very stressed these days, waiting for word on my hubby's release, the kids, work, all of it. Not that she would know, since she is never around anymore. I do miss her, yet, this new her, I just do not like at all. She has changed who she is, everything is just so different. I expected distance with the new man, but God, not for her to lose who she is. I guess it was bound to happen this way, she always feared when Joe gets home. But, I can have both of them in my life, even if she can't. Like I said, I can't help but think, with the short history there is with her man, her and me, that this is all him. He wants me out of her life, and he is getting what he wants. I don't think she even realizes it. It hurts, honestly it hurts bad. I thought of her as family, closer than my sisters actually. Guess I was wrong.
I am used to losing people. I lost many when I got clean, when Joe went to prison. This time, I am just so hurt. This girl was the one person who I truly let in, she knew all of my addiction, everything about me, and never judged me. Now, a fucking man is going to be the end of us. I can't help but feel anger. I feel like, I should not have told her a thing about my past, my addiction, any of it. What a total let down, really on myself for believing anyone could be that trustworthy. I feel like a fucking fool. I really do. I feel used.
Thanks for listening, I really needed to just get that out.

What Do You Think?

I don't know about you guys but I figured a fresh look was appropriate. What do you think? If you absolutely hate it and would like it to go back to the way it was (I know us addicts are resistant to change) let me know and I will change things back.

The only other changes that I am looking to make is to add a peekaview option to our posts so that only a preview of the entire post will be visible on the homepage. It will make it easier to view all of the posts. Unfortunately... the directions that Blogger gives for adding the HTML code are not really easy to follow. I need to get someone with a little more HTML experience to help me out.

Ej had mentioned in his original passing the torch post that there haven't been very many posts to this site lately. I can say that I am guilty of this as well.

I think of this site as a place where both addicts and those who have addicts as loved ones can come together, share, and learn from one another. It's really a unique situation in that aspect.

I would love to see more regular posting from everyone (myself included). But hey, I just got my post done...where is yours?

Passing the torch!

I wanted to first thank you all for the opportunity to be the moderator for The Write Thought, it has been an amazing experience for me in which I have had the opportunity to make some great new friends, read some amazing stories, great comments, and well, it's just been an awesome time! Thank you all!

Next, I want to thank Erin (erinsav) of What Winners Do for taking over the reigns of moderator here at The Write Thought. Being a community blog, I think it's good to share the responsibility (be it small) of moderator. But also give someone new a chance to blow some fresh air into our community.

Don't worry, I still plan to post now and again; when I have something to say :)

Thanks all,
Ej.

Monday, October 22, 2007

mereggie, a.k.a. me, reggie macdonald a true story

I found this amazing site this evening while testing out a new search extension that I had just downloaded and installed to Firefox. I was randomly inputting various searches regarding the topic heroin. The site that I found is entitled mereggie, a.k.a. me, reggie macdonald a true story and its description reads mereggie, the sad true story of reggie macdonald of souris, pei, canada who lived life in the fast lane, involvement with / drug addiction, and subsequent disappearance.

His family is still searching for him or at the very least, hoping for his safe return to them. What he left behind is an unbelievable amount of his personal writings and what we have apparently lost is an incredible talent and voice that for now has been silenced. I’ve barely touched the surface of this site myself. The only thing preventing me from reading further is my desperate need for sleep at the moment. I dare anyone who visits this site to willingly look away.

mereggie is the true story of Reggie Macdonald.

In early December 2005, Reggie left home, while under the apparent effect of crystal meth and disappeared, and despite a country wide search could not be found.

Reggie led a troubled life dealing with drug addiction and the lingering effects on his personal and professional life. Shortly after he disappeared, his family found hundreds of pages of his writings which shed light on his struggles. Reggie had hoped to become a writer and that his life story would have a positive impact on someone, and so with this site, we present his writings.

Read the writing called Methadone, which describes the awful existence of a heroin addict on methadone. If this doesn’t want to make you avoid drugs, then I am surprised. For more harrowing tales that might lead one to avoid drugs, read the Iceland, Kidnapped! and other readings.

If you are intrigued, read on - you can start with Reg’s intro to his story …. more details will be added over the next few months …

NOTE:While Reg was very articulate and a very good writer, at times his perspective is very harsh, most likely affected by his addiction. We hope that his writings are viewed in that context, as the views Reg often expressed are not the views of his family.


The following entry of his is one that I can, unfortunately, relate all to well . Whatever. Now in my past I should think, and hope, and pray. This particular entry spoke to me specifically on many levels.

Prior to me starting back on MMT, I was hooked hardcore to dilaudids and just for me to maintain at a reasonable level, I required at least ten 8mg pills on a daily basis. This certainly doesn't mean that I got them everyday because even at this level, the best price one could hope for was $100 which actually meant for us $200 - there were two active addicts involved in all of this insanity after all. While we did manage to come close most days, at our worst we were still spending on average approx $2600 monthly.

I could have practically written this piece myself the similarities are so eerie. Again I encourage everyone to visit this site. This entry will be cross posted to METHADONE PRETTY as well.

methadone


When I get up in the morning, I don’t grab a coffee. I go to the fridge for my 100 ml bottle of methadone. After that my day is just like yours. But I wasn’t always like this. Life was a lot harder, a lot rougher. Every morning I would be sick as / like a dog. I’d crush up a couple of 8mg Dilaudid tablets and boil them in a spoon, then I’d fill a syringe. Tie my arm off and plunge the cure into my arm. And then I was good for … 3 or 4 hours. Wash, rinse, repeat. I couldn’t work.

Dilaudid is illegal unless your Dr. [gives you] a prescription. With a few phone calls you can get them for about $20 each. I used at least 10 a day. 10 to keep the sickness at bay, 10 to 20 more if I wanted to get high, and usually, I did if I had the money. It’s not easy to come up with $500/day for pills/medicine, but its gotta be done - or else the sickness – it’s always there. As soon as the pills begin to wear off, its banging at the door. Cramps, chills, sweats, diarrhea, the shits, nausea, chronic anxiety, insomnia – that’s just the beginning. Soon comes hallucinations and deliria, and unimaginable suffering. It all goes away if you take another pill, just one more. Then there’s methadone, a synthetic opiate, if you can get it. In most cities it’s easy, but not quite so in Charlottetown.

For @ 5 years my life revolves around Dilaudid and Oxycontone, percocil, morphine, codeine, etc. If I had money and pills were available, everything was fine. But I wasn’t always fine. I can’t count how many days I’ve lost to the sickness, how many times I’ve been to the treatment center. And a waste of time that was. They’d give you 2 or 3 mild sedatives a day for 3 days and then try to put you in god’s hands. It didn’t work – after the week, or 2, or 3, was over, I could suffer no longer. Straight to the dealer. It doesn’t help to tell me “everythings gonna be all right. You’ll feel better tomorrow”. Anybody who says / tells you that doesn’t know what this drug is about (why I take it).

But I had always heard about the mainland, where they gave you this drug, methadone, that took away the suffering and made you feel normal, not high, just normal, like I used to be … yeah, like it used to be, I miss those days.

I did the drugs for 5 or 6 years, but and I sat by and watched, as friends and acquaintances died one after another, month by month, because they couldn’t get the help they needed. I’m sure the doctor (at Detox) noticed too, but it didn’t matter [since] we are / they were expendable. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t handle the sickness. The detox couldn’t help. They didn’t have a clue. They would have nothing to do with methadone (methadone is addictive. You have to take it every dad or you get sick just like with the drugs, but it’s prescribed to you, you can have ready access to it. You never have to be sick again, you don’t get high on it, but you can live an ordinary life, like anyone else.

Finally, I scraped up some money, packed up my bags, and left for Alberta. All I had was a change of clothes, $500,and enough pills to last me 3 days, it was a gamble, nothing was lined up / set up - I was on my own.

But it worked out. Before 48 hours were up, I was in a doctor’s office getting a prescription for methadone. It was such a relief, such a good feeling. No more days spent looking for drug dealers, no more searching for a private place to inject my drugs, and no more waking up sick – I was human again. I got a job, an apartment, a car, and a normal life.

But I always wanted to come home again. I have children in PEI. What good am I to them if I am 3000 miles away? A few years went by, and I became used to feeling normal again and not needing drugs. I had seen on the internet that PEI was starting a methadone program. This year I came home. It was great. I missed PEI. I could see my kids, my family, my friends every day and I wasn’t sick all the time like I used to be. It was different now. Better. It seemed too good to be true.

It was. Sure I could get methadone now and I felt good … physically – but mentally? When I go to the pharmacy, I don’t go to the counter like anybody else, I go around the back, into the office, where no one can see me. I don’t feel different, but I am. The pharmacists are ashamed of me, or ashamed for me. Does it make a difference? I began to understand / grasp what life must be like for a black person, or these days, an arab, from their perspective. I don’t like it.

And things have changed at the treatment centre. They now have a methadone program – but they still don’t understand – they don’t get it. I came / went there with a perfect record from my doctor in Alberta. I gave urine tests every month, and never once did I fail only once in 4 years. I thought I had proven myself but no. It starts slowly, but within 3 months, for some reason, I realize that I am not like other people. I’m a drug addict, a junkie. I don’t feel like one now, but at the Detox, it is clear that is how they see me. I am a liar, a cheat, a thief, a dirtbag, scum of the earth. I know I’m clean and sober, with the help of methadone, but that doesn’t seem to matter – I’m a liar, a cheat, a thief. I must be if I’m on methadone. In PEI, it seems that only thieves, cheats and liars use methadone. In the rest of Canada, there are factory workers, plumbers and carpenters on meth[adone], as well as lawyers, and even doctors taking methadone!

But, my god, it is different here. I hate myself for having to do this. It didn’t bother me in Alberta, there I was treated like anyone else, but here, no. I’m walking on eggshells every time I go to the pharmacy, or the doctor, especially the doctor, I don’t know what to expect. On one day, I was asked twice for urine tests. Apparently, they thought that as soon as I gave the first sample, I was going to go and get some drugs. I live in constant suspicion and fear, even though I have done no wrong. Its just that I didn’t realize I was a cheat, a liar and a thief and as such I must be closely monitored. I am not on drugs, but they think I am. All drug users, past or present, are liars, cheats and thieves – that’s just how it is in PEI. They’re going to get me, to catch me, it doesn’t matter that I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s who I am I’m a thief, a liar and a cheat…

Acceptance

I wish I had more time to write. I love this blog and all the people that share. I have been busy with life on life's terms and sometimes that is almost to much. But we all now we never get more than we can handle.

I have two sponsee's at the moment and they are both retreads. That has been filling much of my time. Working steps with people that already think to much but haven't found the key to unlocking the door to continuous clean time takes more. No pink clouds, and no first time wonderment. Just alot of hard work. I've been there but I can't just tell them how to do it. Personal discovery is so important.

I hope this sweet seed of recovery continues to exist. Sometimes blogs have slow moments and then they rekindle. I always enjoy coming here and relaxing. But whatever is meant to be will be. I guess that would be acceptance.

Passing the torch...

It seems that our little blog is barely limping along, no posts now in way too long, post are becoming farer and fewer in between. I'm not sure what happened. But I would like to pass the torch of moderator along to another. Perhaps someone who is better suited, strong in recovery, to breath new life into what is really an amazing place. The truth is, I just don't have the desire, the ability, or the experience to flag this ship. I was hoping to find a volunteer(s), who would like to become moderator(s). This really entails very little time, or perhaps you would like to give the blog a make over, or have ideas on how to breathe life back into this old horse.

If anyone other than MICKY is interested (lol), let me know.

Thanks,

Eric

Sunday, October 14, 2007

A Hunger

One of the most difficult things for me, as one who has a bit of recovery, is trying to clean up every area of my life that was affected by my addiction. In other words, it is coming to grips with the fact that I have an addictive personality. While my main substance was alcohol, I discovered that it was helping me hide the shame I felt from a tendency to develop "love" relationships that weren't healthy. In sorting through my addictive past and in my recovery, I am learning that love isn't anything what I thought it was. But that doesn't mean the desirous part of me doesn't want to give in and "possess" another to comfort myself at times. When some time is acquired without the drug of choice, at least for me, it becomes less of a focus. Yet, my personality still has a tendency to want to get a "high" off something or someone.

I was also a dual relationship person. I always had one serious relationship and one "boyfriend" on the side. And that was true when I got sober. I had been seeing someone on and off "on the side" for two years before I got sober. And it remained true until I got through the really tough initial phases of sobriety. Then, my world came crashing down because I knew I couldn't have this new life of so much promise and keep living a lie.

So, ultimately, I am where I am today, with one person. And happy...but happy in a different way. A stable happy and a peaceful happy, not a temporary happy or a "high" happy. They are different, and I prefer the peace and serenity. But some days, I do long for the elation. Some days, I want to do what is wrong because it feels so right "for the moment". But I don't because I know my relationship with my higher power is developed and strengthened in resisting, and that has given me peace.

But I miss him. I miss him, and I hunger for this man I had to give up. Sometimes the grief almost overwhelms me. If true love is honest, which I believe it is, then I couldn't have loved him because this was not an honest relationship. But sometimes what seems like love masquerades as true love, and it is all so complex and painful. Why do we have the tendency to long for what we cannot have? Why does he seem so perfect for me? Why can' t I seem to let his memory go even though it has been awhile?

Such is the life of an addict still trying to come to terms with life.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Welcome Tanya Marie

Hey peeps. Please take some time to go check out Tanya Marie at "only one way up." She joined The Write Thought, too, but her blog isn't listed yet, just her name as a writer. She is a young woman and mother, addicted to heroin, and trying to recover like the rest of us. Please reach out, visit her site, and support her recovery.
Currently she has asked for some feedback regarding continuing relationships with people who mean a great deal to her, but are still in active addiction. I left her a comment, but ya'll know I'm ill and I don't have much energy right now to leave her much. There's so much more to say...I thought I'd take what I have left in me and post a request for ya'll to check in on her and reach out with your own experience, strength, and hope.
It's what we do here. And we're all pretty damn good at it -- humbly spoken, of course.
I love you guys and hope to get back to posting soon.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Thank you...

Yes it’s time to say thank you to each one of you for helping me in aiding another. I wish I could describe to you the gratitude this family has for each of you that helped by either reposting, by commenting, and of course those of you who were in a position to donate your hard earned money.

I knew this would raise controversy, I know there were risks involved in putting myself out there on the line by taking personal responsibility by tackling the idea of asking others to help one of our own. But I was deeply surprised by the overwhelming positive response that I received from so many people. I also have deep respect for those who spoke their minds regarding how they felt about what I was doing.

I can tell you with tremendous gratitude and respect that every penny was well spent keeping our friend’s family warm, helped them to keep their electricity on, and for them to be able to take hot showers and warm baths. This act of kindness from each of you has restored my faith in human nature, in a time where most people look out for themselves, in a society that shuns and looks the other way as American families are left out in the cold on the streets, hungry and without shelter.

This was a deeply spiritual and amazing experience for me. Yes, you and I, helped another, that in itself felt amazing to do. But there was more to it for me. I was able to give something back to the world I have spent a lifetime ripping off. It’s not about Karma, or trying to do the right thing, it was about doing what I felt needed to be done. In this case, not only was that accomplished for myself, but also one of us, one of our families was helped in a time of need, and I think it may have restored their faith in human kindness as well.

But don’t stop now. No, I am not asking you for more money, but just pay it forward. Practice random acts of kindness simply because it feels good to do so. Next time you see that homeless man with his sign sitting on the edge of the off ramp, give him a dollar. Or gather your old blankets and jackets that no longer fit your growing children and drop them off at your local homeless shelter. Ring bells for the Salvation Army this Christmas season. Let’s get the ball rolling folks. We as a community, one who has been shunned by most of society, labeled as substance abusers, junkies, drug addicts, can show that we too have the capacity to do good things, to have compassion towards others, and most of all, we are capable of selfless acts.

I can’t thank you enough!

With love to all,

Ej.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

The Nickel And Diming Of My Perspective or Change is Cheap.

This is my everyday view. It's right outside the bedroom where I am staying. I do not own this view but as long as I am here this is what I get to see each and every day. It is an extraordinary view. The picture does not do it justice.

No matter. I take it for granted for it is what I have seen every day (and night) for almost a year. It was there yesterday and I know it will be there tomorrow. Rarely am I wowed by it despite it being such a beautiful vista to have any time I like.

This got me to thinking (Uh-oh).

San Francisco is an unbelievably beautiful city with many, many beautiful vistas. Despite knowing that, I rarely avail myself of such scenery. I remain mostly in this one place with this one view that, as I have stated, I take for granted. What if I changed my perspective every now and then? What if I looked at the same city from a different place? What would I see?

Below are just a few of the sights I would see if I would just consider a different point-of-view. There IS a message here and that is how a change of perspective will change what we see. And we need not look at the same thing all the time from only one perspective and in only one way. If perception is reality then are we not able to change our individual perceptions and, thusly, our reality? Makes you think, huh?



Something I ask myself more and more these days—Who knew?

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

A Question For All You Recovering Addicts Out There

I have just posted an article on my own site called Addiction Recovery: What Have We Become. This article is more of a question posed to all my fellow recovering addicts/alcoholics out there.

I want to know what are some positive things that you find yourself liking, seeing, doing since entering into recovery.

I would love if everyone could take a couple of minutes, head on over to What Winners Do , and just give an example of something that you are interested in now that you never thought you would be while still in active addiction.

I think it will be fun and positive to see some of the good that comes out of addiction recovery. I've already listed mine in the post so don't use the excuse that you don't want to be the first one to comment...I've already taken care of that for you.

Erin

It’s Not a Habit…

I started methadone August of 1999. By then I was a solid year and a half into a pretty heavy opiate addiction. It had started with dilaudid but as soon as we were able we had moved on to heroin. We live in a funny city. While it is reasonably large with close to half a million, it is near impossible to find heroin here. Except for a time in the 1970's - so I have been told - it is one drug that does not seem welcome. Very white collar town so there is lots of pot and cocaine. Crack has had some effect as has speed but not like those other two. Because this is also very much a university and college town, there is also lots of ecstasy and its ilk. By the time I had even given a dilaudid a try, I was about two years deep into a large coke and speed habit. Funny can't even remember what that was like but I know that we were using every day and had been for a long time. Then along came a little yellow pill and it was as if nothing else existed. It was wondrous and it didn't take long to develop a tolerance for it. Thank heavens we knew someone that could get us heroin. He was out of town three out of the seven days and he happened to be working in a place that was literally drowning in it so every Thursday night right after getting off his bus, he would drop by our place with our weekly package. Sunday night we would wave him goodbye as his bus left town, our money in his pocket. This went on for over a year.

It started to get quite expensive as all habits tend to but this one also felt different. Where before, I may have been a bit of a bitch if I couldn't get blow or speed, I could get by at least but not this time. When I was without I hurt, I felt sick, I was in severe pain. I couldn't or wouldn't want to go to work and I had always prided myself on never letting any of my vices interfere with work and to be honest, life in general. Suddenly I had become single minded, nothing else mattered but not feeling sick anymore. I had to have a hit no matter what. Came close to bankrupting us. Sad but at least we had a house to sell to get us out of debt. And selling this one, our favourite, meant that we still had two others left although they were nowhere near as nice and they were in a much rougher part of town but that didn't seem to concern us so much anymore. We moved. We had to. We had someone else very important in our life now that very much needed to be accommodated. I had never lied before but suddenly I found myself doing just that. When my family doctor confronted me I couldn't admit it at first. I was every which way of denial until I couldn't take it anymore. This drug eventually wears you down, strips you of every vestige of dignity and self respect. I fessed up and when he started talking about getting us into a methadone program, I pretty much said yes just to humour him plus he said that as soon as we were on the list, he would be able to help us out and get us from having to buy our dope on the street at ridiculous prices.

I had never actually intended to follow thru with the methadone. The moment we were accepted our doctor wrote us each a prescription for 30 dilaudid a week. It was as if we had hit the jackpot. Between us we had 60 pills that would normally have cost us almost $20 each - quite a savings. He said that he could keep us supplied until we reached a high enough methadone dose that could sustain us on its own. I figured that we would ride this out as long as we could. Looked like it would be at least eight weeks that we could get our prescription and I figured that was long enough for us to get our finances back in order. We would in theory save a lot by not having to buy opiods for a two month period. As it was we were spending about $700/week and that was barely keeping us from getting sick so I knew that we were living on borrowed time if we continued spending at that rate. We were long overdue for a financial break.

But a funny thing happened while we going to methadone. It started working. I stopped grieving for any of the others. I went a day without a hit, then two and then a week. A week turned into a month and then two and three and we were still going. Suddenly two years had passed and I no longer did anything except for my methadone. I didn't even drink anymore. I forgot about heroin and dilaudid and morphine - oxys had yet to make their appearance but that was only a matter of time. The methadone made me so very tired though even if it did seem to work a small miracle. I would start to nod off at the worst possible time something I rarely did while addicted to the others. I needed to stay awake. So before we knew it we were back doing speed but this time we vowed that we would keep our spending under control and we did for a long time. Speed wasn't the same anyway now that we were on meth. Yes, you could kind of feel it but you never felt as if you were way out there. Oh well, it was still better than nothing. And we were spending about half of what we used to spend on the other.

Suddenly twenty seven months had passed. We were starting to get tired of the daily grind of having to grab our methadone. Yes, for the most part normalcy had returned to our lives. We fell into our own little routine. Gone were the hours upon hours dedicated to finding that one hit that would take away the pain. I could go back to work full time, we both could. Methadone gave our life structure once again. My credit card debts were now paid off. We had sold the other two houses and purchased a three story apartment building. Our self confidence and esteem had returned. We didn't want or need methadone any more. It was time to say goodbye. I had two weeks vacation at Christmas 2001 but a week before my vacation started I got a terrible flu. I was down to about 20mg of methadone a day. I felt so sick that I just didn't feel like grabbing my methadone one day and the next and the day after that. I just stopped going and when my flu ended, any withdrawal that I may have been going thru had also ended. It was hard to tell one from the other so I kept telling myself that there was no withdrawal just crappy flu symptoms.

Fast forward three and a half years. I am once again severely dependent on that little yellow pill. Well now it is the little white pill. No more #4s for us, we now need #8s. We are back spending ridiculous amounts of money and are consumed by abject fear whenever we find that we have run out or that none of our dealers is holding. It is no longer pleasant. But what of the intervening three years you ask? Well that is obviously a story for another day...TO BE CONTINUED

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Life Jacket Anyone????


I am not posting on my other blog. Not yet anyway. I just feel that it is wrong to post there. I talk about this love we have, this bond we share, as if it is some fucking fairy tale. Well, there is nothing fairy tale like about prison, there is no happily ever after. There is nothing romantic about prison visits, nothing to brag about my husband being a convicted felon. Let alone his lies-God only knows how long they have been going on. Nothing pretty about another woman being involved in my marriage, in my fucking husbands private life. PRIVATE LIFE---IN PRISON!!! It is totally embarrassing that my husband can find time for someone else in prison, its fucking humiliating.
I am not sure what to say, or what to write. All I know is that I want to write, I need to write, even though nothing is making any sense at all, my words are mixed up, my thoughts are not even sentences, so please forgive me. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to physically hurt someone. I want to go and get a nice bag, snort my brains out, and go numb. I want to go and get some wonderful pills, pop a bunch and just forget that I am alive. (NO RED FLAGS. I'M NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING. just being honest about how I feel) I want to do anything to stop this sickness inside of me. I want this horrible feeling to go away. I cant even describe it. It is like my entire body, inside and out has razor burn. Even when the wind hits any part of my skin, it hurts, it burns constantly. My heart is hurting unlike it has ever hurt before. Shit, everything hurts in me now. I am sick. I can't eat, can't barely sleep, I don't want to do anything at all. I hate getting up in the morning, I hate getting ready for work (i barely do that even, everyone there is so politely pointing out the fact that I have looked like shit all week). I don't want to cook, clean, or do anything with the kids. My poor Noel has been doing Nick's homework with him all week. I don't want to exist right now. I want to hide, to run away. So far away from here, and find a safe place to go, so i can just totally melt down. I have never been a weak woman. I don't cry really. I don't fall apart. I don't think about choices in life, I simply do what I have to do to survive. I have never depended on anyone, but myself. Especially since Joe has been in prison. I have been doing things all by myself. No one financially helps me, mentally helps me, emotionally helps me, or spiritually helps me. I get no support from my family. I get conditional assistance with the kids once in a while, with constant reminding of it. And now, things are just falling apart, and all I want to do is find someone to run too, someone to just take care of me and my kids, I just want to climb into a bed, and stay there for about 3 weeks, 3 months, 3 years knowing my kids are taken care of. I am drowning and I am searching for a life jacket, because I am just to tired to continue treading these damn waters. So quickly things fell apart. It took me so long to get all that I have, which is not much, but to us, it is the world. I have always focused on the love my family has, how lucky we are to have that. Now, I am just losing everything around me. I don't know how this happened to us, and the thing that is killing me, is that with my kids and me, it is all my fault. I feel like with Joe, it is my fault also. Like, he is going to someone else, because I am failing him as a wife. I am not providing for him the way I should. I should be working two jobs like I used too. I have a family to provide for. And I am failing at it. I am drowning, and taking my kids with me. I just can't stop this, I am trying, but I feel like the fight has left me. I just want to quit now, just give up. I have never wanted anyone to do anything for me, hell, I never let Joe do anything for me. That is just how I am built, and now, this whole mess with him, it feels like it has just broken me. Another woman. God. After all he has put my family through, another fucking woman. Unreal. In prison, another woman. I just can't get over this. I keep reading that letter, over and over again. Throwing up, and reading it again. Crying, putting it down, washing my face, then picking it up again. Why would he hurt me like this? I have tried to be a good wife to him, since the day we met, he knew he was loved every single fucking day. He knew his wife was here, caring about him, devoting herself to him. Yet, there he went, ANOTHER WOMAN. Not to mention the entire parole thing. I wonder, what did he tell her? Would this continue once he is out? Would he sneak around with her, calling her, seeing her?? Then have the nerve to come up in my bed at night?? Oh God, WHY WONT THIS JUST STOP!!! I want to shut my mind off, shut my heart down. I want to sleep. No- I want to eat a real meal, keep it down, take a hot shower, and sleep. Sleep for days and days. Preferably in someones arms, and at this point, I don't want Joe's arms. I just want that safe feeling to come back to me. I feel like a small child, lost, wandering around.
I need to thank all of you. Letting me go on like this, not making an ounce of sense. I needed to get that out, and probably will need to do it again. You are all so great, trying to help me through this, someone you don't even know. That is amazing, and I really do appreciate it. I am grateful to have all of you in my corner. Sorry for this long post. But thanks for listening.

A Little Something I'm Passionate About Lately

For anyone who checks out my site at all you might have seen that back in May of this year I decided to stop taking Cymbalta. It just felt that it was time to experience the world on my own and not under the influence of a mood elevator.

To my surprise, I was told that I could not just stop taking this medication but that I would need to taper down. Ok, not what I was planning on but I wanted to be successful at coming off Cymbalta so I followed my doctors advice.

To my dismay as soon as I started taking a lower dose my body started to go through withdrawal from Cymbalta. I couldn't believe it. I thought that when I was in rehab detoxing and withdrawing from Oxycontin it would be the last time in my life that my body would be sick due to not having it's drugs. I was wrong.

My doctor didn't prepare me for what I was going to experience. I had flu like symptoms, canker sores, bone pain, total malaise (I was taking a four-five hour nap each day), explosive anger and worst of all...brain zaps. For anyone not familiar with this phenomena a brain zap is an electrical jolt feeling in your brain. I was getting those a couple of times a minute. These symptoms lasted 19 days...19 DAYS!





Suffice to say, since my doctor was "unaware of Cymbalta causing withdrawal" I was convinced I was dying. That was until I googled the term Cymbalta withdrawal. Although there was no "official" information on Cymbalta withdrawal there were message boards filled with people experiencing the same thing as I.

I posted my frustration on my site in an article I lovingly called Cymbalta Withdrawal Sucks. The response I got to this post was astonishing to me. I have hundreds of comments from people going through the same thing that I was. And what was the common theme? They were never told upfront that Cymbalta had the potential to cause withdrawal and even worse their physicians were unaware of this fact.

To put it mildly...this has me really fired up. I started thinking that I need to do something, I need to get the word out there. So I am proud to say that I have done a couple of things to spread the word.

  1. I have started an Online Cymbalta Petition addressed to Eli Lilly which is essentially a demand that they make any and all information regarding the potential for Cymbalta to cause withdrawal. There is also some stuff on their about their drug reps informing physician offices prior to giving them free samples to hand out like candy. I am urging anyone and everyone who would like to see a drug company disclose complete information on a drug so that patient's can make an informed decision about their drug sign this petition.
  2. I have filed a formal complaint with the FDA and through my website am urging those who have suffered through the Cymbalta withdrawal with no prior knowledge of the potential for this withdrawal to file a formal complaint with the FDA.
I have also started to email information to local and national TV News channels and Newspapers and so far I have gotten some interest in this story. All of this is in an effort to enact change. I appreciate all of you being patient with me ranting about this subject to no end.

Take Care
Erin

sickgirl finally says hello

I originally requested to be part of The Write Thought some time ago but have not yet had a chance to contribute anything until now, even though I've been following the site religiously since its inception. I think that it its an amazing place for those of us battling opiate addiction to be, regardless of what side of this addiction you find yourself. For two years, I had been a regular part of junkylife.com, which was similar to this endeavor. I had a journal there which was entitled Why Do Anything When You Can Forget Everything? but unfortunately it is no longer there, deleted I guess.

I say I guess it's been deleted because I honestly don't really know what has happened to my site, a site that I spent two years pouring out my guts, agonizing over my addiction, etc. None of my emails sent to the webmaster of junkylife.com have ever been returned, nor have any of the comments made to him on his own site been answered. I know that I never requested its removal. I do know that many promises were broken and even now, almost three months later, I still feel sad over what occurred.

There is a silver lining to all of this, now that I was able to discover everyone here. Up until finding this site, I'd been feeling extremely lost and adrift and alone, but most especially, frightfully disconnected from what had become for me, my support group of fellow opiate addicts. I look forward to being part of this project and thank you all for allowing me the opportunity to be part of it.

So for my first entry, I'd like to recount what has been happening to me these past two and a half days or so because it hasn't been terribly pleasant and no doubt there will be many here that can relate.

Well, after barely enduring the past 48 hours, I certainly have a new found respect for methadone that's for bloody sure. Maybe respect is not the most accurate description, but I do know that this will be the first and last time that I'll ever take my MMT for granted. I see now how easily I've allowed myself to become complacent about my treatment. Never again I say!

For the first time since I've returned to MMT, I missed going to the clinic to get my scheduled dose. Circumstances were such that I just could not make it there yesterday. I honestly thought that it really wouldn't be much of a deal as I'm only on 80ml and have been taking my dose since February of last year as well as been stabilized on this dose for the last nine months or so. I had taken my dose on Tuesday at approx 1pm and figured that I would be fine until this morning at 10am.

I got through the majority of yesterday without incident. Work was fine. I noticed in the afternoon that my stomach was unusually unsettled and that I had a few uncontrollable sneezing bouts, but I simply put this down to picking something up from the kids, as Sara had been complaining since the weekend of being really congested, plus having a sore throat. By about ten last night though I started to really feel like crap.

My stomach was still unsettled and my nose was running constantly, plus my body started to ache all over and my head was pounding. Great, I thought. As it had been what seemed like a near eternity since I had been dopesick, I'd allowed myself to become somewhat cavalier about the whole thing. How soon, and easily, we (can) forget. As there wasn't really a whole lot that I could do at this point, I basically decided that probably the best thing for me to do was to try to sleep through this whole ordeal, so that when I woke up in the morning, the first thing I'd do was drag my sorry ass to the clinic.

It has now been an hour and twenty minutes since I took my methadone and miracle of miracles, I feel just fine. My stomach is no longer bothering me, although now I feel absolutely ravenous, plus I've stopped sneezing and my nose is no longer running. Soon I imagine, the last of my body's aches will also disappear.

Obviously this illustrates what a powerful tool methadone can be in our fight against addiction. It sure is no lightweight. And yes, this also illustrates how addictive the solution to the problem can be and how yes, we may just be trading one evil for another with no great improvement ultimately in our "prison sentence". So what's an addict to do?

For me personally, I know that MMT is the best solution. Where I live, suboxone has not yet been approved so it can not yet be legally prescribed. Cold turkey is for the birds, literally! A decade ago, I spent just over two years on MMT and was able to stop it by gradually tapering down my dose. Once I had reached about 15ml, I just stopped taking it and except for about seven to ten days of mild discomfort, I didn't suffer much at all. All of my cravings by this point had also been eliminated. For another three years, I continued to remain opiate - and methadone - free. Going back to them is a story for another day.

Obviously I'm not yet in a comfortable enough place to even consider weaning myself off of this treatment but I also know that I'm not necessarily condemned to a life sentence although, if worse came to worse and I was, I'd eventually find a way to deal. Right now, all that I know is that I don't ever want to feel even remotely dopesick again if I don't have to.

I'll not be so cavalier in the future either, because at the end of the day, its also bigger than simply feeling dopesick. Obviously, my mood would end up affecting my family and my work, and not in a positive way. I've made far too much progress in the past year and a half anyway to mess it up. I'm also glad that I rode out the sickness rather than taking the easy way out by medicating with some other type of opiate. Let me tell you that around 4:30am this was a real possibility that I'm glad I didn't follow through with.

I wish that I had more time right now, but unfortunately, work is beckoning me. Now that I feel almost like normal - whatever that means anyway - I best get my day started! Cheers!!!



Tuesday, September 25, 2007

This can not be real


I got this letter today. From an old celly of Joe's. He told me that my husband, the one I have waited for all this time, the one I blog about how much I love, and how much he loves me, the one I believe in my heart of hearts to be my soul mate, is writing another woman. He also has this woman put money on his books, and she visits him during the week while I am working.
I am simply devastated. This can not be real. I do not understand this. I can not accept this. My Joe? Why would he do this to me, to our family? How could he do this? What the hell is going on with my life? Why is everything falling apart?
I feel like a complete ass. Like this has all been a joke or something, like he is making a fool out of me. What do I do? How do I handle this? How can I stop this awful pain in my heart? I can feel it shattering, just completely shattering, a million pieces. I can't stop this. I can't handle this. I am so lost right now, I just don't know what to do. So, I am reaching out here. The only place I have. The place I know to get some truth, some reality, some grounding. Please, help me. I really need it. I can't handle this one alone.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Fed Up

I am so fed up right now. I simply can not take anymore shit. I just can't. Everyone is leaning on me, for everything. I can't handle it anymore, I really can't. My sisters are very needy lately, and they are coming to me for so much. Everyone around me seems to be in emotional melt down, and it is really tearing me up inside. I can't take this life anymore. God, I just want my Joe home. Now, it could take months, and there is still that slim chance they can stop this. This revelation came out at visits. Which did not go so good, and that is all I am saying about that. But, for me, I am at the end of my rope. I want him home, I need this man home with me. I have been so strong for 4 years, I just don't have it in me anymore. I am tired, I am simply exhausted. I just want to run away. I need to run away. I can't do this alone anymore. No matter what I do, it is just never enough--for anyone anymore. I always am falling short with someone, somehow. Just when it seems things are going ok, boom, it is a mess again. I just wish everyone would stop and realize, I have enough to deal with in life. I can't solve everyone else's problems. I am only me, not some super hero. My shoulders are not this broad. I just can't handle this. MY life is falling apart, because of everyone else's shit. I want everyone to stop coming to me to fix what I did not break. I just want Joe here, so everyone in my family will get pissed and leave me the hell alone. Just go away. Let me be. Leave me to my life. I have never wanted a bag so bad as I do now. I just want to be so numb, to not feel anything. Lately, it seems all I feel is the pain of others, and my own heartache. I want to be high, to go and use right now. I won't. But, damn, I really want to. I am so sick of all of this damn life. It is too hard for me, and when I look around, why are my arms the only one's open for everyone else? No one is there, with their arms open for me?

Before the Fall

Sometimes I wonder if my inability to remember large tracts of my past is due to the alcohol and drugs, or just a subconscious self defense measure. Regardless of the reason, I do have a hard time recalling certain portions of my life before my slip into total dependence. I am most curious about what my state of mind was as my alcohol abuse slowly phased into alcoholism because it is this time in my life I think is most important to my current recovery. Other than the memories of pain and misery serving as a visceral reminder, the hard core alcoholism portion of my life has very little instructive value. I drank to live and lived to drink… everything else that occurred was just a means to this end. It is this time right before the fall, when I was still a person instead of an alcoholic that I am most interested in.


I guess one of the main things that I can recall about this time frame is my almost total disconnect from the world around me. I do not mean in the same way an alcoholic retreats from others when he can no longer hide his disease, but more in the sense of being on the outside looking in through a window. I still participated and interacted with others, but never felt like I belonged in the scene. It was as if it was my point of reference that Hopper painted his the famous Nighthawks, I was the lonely guy out in the dark, empty street of the city.


Eventually this disconnect became real because of my own actions. I started to neglect things such as work, family, and commitments because I had become detached. It seemed the only time I got feedback out of life, was through the effect of alcohol. I began to depend on my drinking for the stimulus of all things. I needed to drink if I was going to a wedding, just as I would need to drink to go to a funeral. It got to where I would not participate in anything if I could not drink, often avoiding everything altogether by simply sleeping through them. By the time I was avoiding the real world through sleep, I was dependent on the alcohol in my time awake to construct a satisfactory world.


The thing is, I don’t think this “outside looking in” syndrome was anything special to my situation. I think that most people have times in their lives that they feel insignificant or a loss of control. My problem was the alcohol abuse. Even though I was not yet physically dependent on the alcohol, I had begun to rely upon it both as a reward in life and as coping agent for things less pleasant. My drinking was no longer the problem; it was my inability to function with out drinking that became the problem… before the fall.


Cross Posted at The Discovering Alcoholic

Friday, September 21, 2007

Guess who's back, back again? Married to an Ex is back, tell a friend.

I love everyone here, you know I do but I am having a helluva time keeping up with the reading and posting. I want you to know that I am reading but maybe not posting. I feel like collective blogs are the best of both worlds, us still connecting and letting each other know we are alive. This is the codependent part of me that needs to reassure that I am still here and don't want you to feel angry with me for some reason for not reading your stuff or that you don't forget about me. Being codependent is exhausting sometimes!
At any rate I want everyone to know how much these posts (EJ and Scout for the last posts) mean to me. It really helps open me up to a subject that is too painful to remember. It helps ease that pain. I am finally getting some understanding into the nightmare of addiction and am getting a better grip on my own issues. I feel very blessed to know you, even though most of these connections are online (I feel like you could be family!). It is hard to part with some of these feelings and desires and shameful memories so thank you for reading and posting. This is really awesome and a big help to those with meeting issues.
So, now I am off to bed to get ready for another day at the grind stone. Fun times working on Saturday, fo sho.

getting free

The Old Homestead
More than a few bloggers have been talking about the change of season recently. It's been one more reminder for me of how very much we are the same, more than we are different. It's almost Fall and I, like so many others, experience this season emotionally and physically.
It has a subtle beginning, this season. I first notice it in the angle of the sun. The way it shines on my chair has changed so very, very slightly. Then I begin to notice the intensity of the light. It has a filtered look to me -- like colors and shapes have been muted and rounded. They are softer somehow and slightly out of focus. And that is precisely when I begin to feel it.
Loneliness.
I can't even begin to tell how lonely of a kid I was coming up for fear I'll tap some darkness with which I am not fully prepared to handle. I am the youngest of four girls by many, many years. Combine that with the fact that we attended a private, boarding school for prep, and one can easily see that I was, essentially, an only child. I was an only child who lost her beloved father to divorce and child support wars and her mother to endless hours of work to spend time with a married colleague and a congregation that was more important to her than spending time with her last remaining child. To put it more bluntly, she "forgot" she was a mother.
I spent ages 9 to 14 totally alone; just me, my cat, and Boones Farm wine when I could get a "buyer."
Fall symbolizes the time my mother would be working in even more of a frenzy than usual. She was a campus pastor. Thus, the school year meant more people in the congregation. Fall was the time I would begin to live almost totally on my own. I could literally go for several days without even seeing my mother unless I went to her job. She was gone when I got up for school and I was in bed when she got home from work. I ate cereal or spaghettios or toast unless I went to her job.
They were tough years for both of us, my mother and I. I left her when I was 14 to go to prep school about 80 miles away from home. I never moved back home again. Her best was horrible but it was her best at the time. My mother is a outwardly cold, but inwardly kind woman; a loner by nature. She didn't mean to neglect me in the way she did. She didn't know what else to do at the time. I love my mother. I should hope to be as fine of a woman as she is. But she definitely left me with a legacy of the loner and a feeling of loneliness to accompany it.
Two years ago at about this same time I was three months deep into a $60/day habit of tar heroin (a rather lengthy relapse, so to speak.) It wasn't much in comparison to my once $200/day habit, but it was significant nonetheless. Let's face it, one still has to "get well" several times a day, whether the habit is $20 or $200. I had just fucked up a convention for my job that I was required to attend by ending up in the horrors of withdrawal with two days to go before I could get home to more dope. I had brought enough with me to last for a week, but had shot it all up in 5 days. So, there I was in Houston fucking Texas in the best hotel in town, kicking dope like a lil' bitch.
The alone-ness of that incident almost killed me. Still I used as soon as I got off the plane in Minneapolis and could get to my office where I had a stash of cottons I could squeeze until the morning hours when Hector decided it was time to get his ass out of bed and sell dope to the nagging junkys. It took another month for me to give it up completely.
It was October 18, 2005, and I sat in my car in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Minneapolis trying not to spill tar on the leather seat while I shot dope in the last remaining vein I had in my foot. The sun was shining through the sun roof in the same way it is shining today. I was alone. I was totally strung out. I was afraid of myself. I was afraid of everyone else.
The next day I got one of my old colleagues, who had started her own clinic by that time, to pull some strings and get me on Buprenorphine immediately. I had nearly been consumed by my own loneliness, but it in the end it was that very loneliness that set me free.
The picture above is from North Dakota. I grew up in that State; in those wide open spaces where its flat enough to watch a sunset for hours.
Kind of lonely, isn't it.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

A blog I like

This is a perticularly good share that I enjoyed and thought I might pass it along.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

countless vain attempts get old and so do I

The last time I came that close I just jumped right in the bag. I had 14 years clean, living with my ex-husband, who had terminal cancer and was shooting a piece every couple of weeks. I was coping for him. I guess that must be the height of co-dependency or what ever the term is for that kind of ass hole love this week.

that lasted about 6 months and loooooog story short I fixed, and fixed again, and wondered if the next slam would the one that would make me die. I really didn't care one way or another. maybe it was the anti-depressants my Dr. put me on when I came into her office 7 months or so ago and started crying.

I'm not sure why she did that accept that's what Dr.'s do. But I had just gotten a divorce, just had been told my hep-c-liver was in dire need of interferon or the cirrhosis was gonna kill me, and my crazy ex-husband who wouldn't move out and had relapsed a few months before, now had 6 months to a year to live. Oh ya, I had just bought a business the year before on wish and a promise and a $30,000.00 dept. It was doing well as long as I tended to it 7 days a week.

Oh ya, I was taking a couple of 400 level Art Theory at the University. I probably should have taken business classes considering Mr CPA now had cancer. Follow your passion I always say. or some shit like that when I'm running on alot of self will and arrogance.

Then I just decided to shoot dope. I didn't care. I didn't not care. It didn't matter really. After the third time(?) I guess I went to bed. I don't remember. But I do remember waking up in the ER and some bitch nurse trying to find an artery for blood gases. I told her to just let me fucking die in piece if my life depended on blood gases. And please pass me the puck bowl so I didn't mess my jammies.

Thank God my Doctor Friend showed up to figure out that I hadn't OD'd but had somehow stopped my heart. And then my good friend, the Methadone Man showed up and gaffled up my Ex and gave him a few options. What a damn circus it all was. I had a business to run and 2 A's that needed some love and I was in the ICU. They wouldn't let me even make a phone call. Worse then County fuckn' jail.

What an arrogant shit head I was to these kind people trying to save my live. But three days with my feet elevated above my head, and no visitors gave me plenty of time to reflect. I did get to make some phone calls. First, to Chatty Cathy... I wanted everyone to now what I had done before I decided to just call it a heart attack and then to that old hard ass NA woman I really didn't much care for and asked her to be my sponsor.

When I got out of the hospital I wondered if I had taken leave of my senses. I just had to let go of the crap I like to feed my brain. The fantasy that somehow I am really ok when I'm really not. And that is where I find the people who might be able to help. The power of one addict sharing with another addict. It always works for me and yet some days I just don't care. And that's the day I hope for the miracle to catch me again.

So that was in 2000. Wouldn't you think I learned something? But no, in 2004, I had a one night stand with 10 of my own percodans. The bottle said take one every 6 hours for pain, not 10 all at once to sleep. And thats another vain attemt at bending the rules to suit me. Way to long for this blog. But, I really believe that the only thing we can do wrong in this 12 step program is to not come back.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Clean to dirty in the blink of an eye (THE REASON RELAPSES SUCK ASS!)

This is a post that should probably be on my personal blog; I am not sure the reason for posting it here. Well, other than Scout's request for fresh material. So what the hell, maybe it will do some other hurting soul some good.

I almost relapsed to night. No wait, relapse is to pretty of a word, it's too much a recovery word, and not being one in recovery, and what I did or almost did tonight being pretty fucking ugly, let's just call it what it was; I almost slammed some dope tonight. Yup, no I am not talking about smoking some weed, or taking a drink. I am not even talking about doing some lightweight opiate like a few Vicodins. No, I went straight to the connection's house to score some dope in order to "fix" a gram straight to my head.

I was sitting in Costco, eating a polish dog and drinking a coke. I had had a particularly bad day, well as far as bad days go for me, and I have more than my fair share, today was a fucking shitty day, which fell on the heels of a shitty week, and is standing before a pretty bleak and shitty near future. Now I preach about staying in the moment as often as possible, and well, maybe this is the exact reason one should do so as often as possible. See already earlier in the day I had considered using, after all it was just the night before I had be asked if perhaps I was using again. Being a few days shy of 90's sober, meaning without heroin, but with the use of methadone. I took offense, I mean how dare she question my sobriety, I'm fucking 90 days clean, WTF, and to top it off, I am in the exact same spot every time she had ever asked and I had lied. Meaning not once had she ever asked if I was using when I wasn't using, except last night. I was pissed off. I was indigent, but fuck, even if I was using, it's not like it's her fucking business anyway, I am outta here in two fucking weeks, what's it to her anyway. Those were my exact thoughts the night before.

So I sat in Costco, like I said, eating my polish dog, and I think to myself, who has dope? See, I had already made the leap from; well if I am getting blamed, I might as well do it. to; I hurt so fucking bad, and muscle memory of how all of that washes away in the matter of seconds. to: I just got pissed test at the clinic, so I am good for at least 3 weeks. to: I am on methadone, meaning I can use just tonight, be back on my dose tomorrow, no worries of an extended "relapse" (was I used that word, at that time). to: I am on methadone, so I better get a full gram, because a half gram might not be enough and I want to get good and loaded. to: calling the one person I know who still uses. This happened all in a nano second, all on a subconscious level, but nevertheless, it sent the conscious Ej. into direct action. That is the only way I can explain the process of a relapse for this junkie. The only way I can tell you what happened, was because I never went through with it.

Turns out this person happens to be hold, he has 3 grams, but they are $60 per. Fuck, I don't really want to spend $60. But make no mistake, if I can't get it for less, $60 it is. I say I am on my way over, and head over. But I had already made another leap, one I forgot in the first set of leaps, and that one was: I will stop at the main connects house and see what's going, what kind of deal he'll give me. Side Note: This is the very same connection who for the last 8 months of my last run, I had worked for. I had free dope and an extra $2K a month in my pocket, all for making 3 or 4 deliveries a week. But near the end, someone got busted, and I am a smart man, I knew that by this particular individuals arrest, meant trouble for the organization I was involved in. I cut my losses, and bailed. Gave up the $2k a month and the free dope, went back to paying wholesale prices until I got back on MMT.

As it turns out this was a very wise decision. As I learn at the connections house, they came for him about a month ago, and they subsequently raided everyone who worked for him at the same time. These were all the people I had worked with just months prior. This could have been me. This was me. As he told me the story, all I could think was, thank god I got the fuck out. They didnt get the connection, he was smart, he used people, they were the one's who got busted. While I listed to his story all I could think is thank god I am not in this life anymore. He lost his kids, of course he would get them back, he could afford those high priced attorneys. But fuck, that could have been me that went down with the 6 or 7 others. That was me. I didn't even bother to ask about the dope, I knew he wouldn't have any, and by that time, I had lost all interest.

I was walking to the car, thinking about how blessed I was. How I had almost made a huge mistake, how had I not left the world when I did, I would have had made an even bigger mistake. I thought about how good it felt not to NEED to get loaded like so many times before. I thought about how good it felt not to wake up every morning with that same need. How good it felt that I wasn't lying to my family about using. About how proud I was that I could look at my daughters and not feel shame over being loaded, or worse, waiting for them to go away so I could sneak off to get a hit. I thought about all my beautiful, wonderful friends, that would be crushed if I had done it. I felt such relief of not having to eventually admit it and not have had let anyone down. How those things meant something to me for the first time in my life. I had never cared about how what I had done or was going to do would affect anyone. No addict does, we are selfish and self centered people who are self involved. I was happy. I thought about all these things not in a nano second, but I thought about each one, as if time had stopped. I went over each and every detail, I felt the feelings, I relived the moments, I played them over and over and over again. Then as I got to my car, I got a text message. It was from D, it was a picture of my daughters. I just smiled. It was a message from God, he was smiling upon me. He was basking me in his light. He was showing me the exact reasons I made the decision I did, that I had made the right decision, and that I had answered to a high calling. It was beautiful, it was magical and ultimately divine.

Until the next day, which is all gloriously posted in the comments section and you can all read about my true insanity there.