Rezidivism 5: When the going gets tough,.......
Aaniin, today on Rezidivism I would like to talk about the hard times, but not hard times in recovery. Instead, the moments in active addiction when you believe that this world would be better off without you. The times where you believe that with you gone the world would be a better place, and who would even care. I had a strong motivation to write on this topic and have been thinking about it for many years but, as I type, I have a fear rushing over me. My stomach is trembling and tears are forming just below my eyelids. I have a shake in my breathing and my fingers are frozen. There was a low in my lows, when I was reaching the point of no return, my family meant nothing, my thoughts meant nothing and my own being, nothing.... and I wanted to die.
I was running on about 2 weeks on meth, knowing I would need to come down soon as the hallucinations were non stop. There was a constant knock on the door, or someone talking to me and flashing lights, people peeking in windows or the sound of someone walking down the hallway. I usually found an opiate to help me turn my mind off and sleep for a few days and I was ready for it. I was laying on the floor in the dark wishing it was the end. I wanted it all to end. I had no more fight left in me. I was having cold sweats but felt like I was on fire. My mouth and lips were dry and I had cracks forming in the palms of my hands from the lack of water no doubt. I had nothing in my stomach and I would dry heave until it felt like my ears were going to explode. I drank water just to have something come up. As I layed there all I can think of how much of a failure I was. How I let my family down, my grandmother, my papa and, most of all, my uncle. I have been riding on the grief of my uncle for a few years now and knew he would’ve been the one person I could turn to but also the only person I couldn’t face at the same time. When the going gets tough, it is usually said the tough get going. In this case, I was far from tough, although the tough was definitely going going GOING. I knew I wanted it to stop, I wanted to stop. I had no hope for myself and believed from the deepest part of my consciousness that the world would be better without me, I am nothing, I will never be anything more than what I was laying on that floor. When it came down to deciding to OD and finish it all off, the tough was still not going for me. I was a coward and couldn’t even fulfill my own self prophecy to destroy every cell of awareness in my mind and ultimately cause my own death.
I was definitely sick. I was sick physically but that wasn’t the worst of it. I was sick mentally and emotionally. Most of all, I was sick spiritually. I remember the old people saying that everyone is here for a reason. I couldn’t picture a future for me that had any purpose so I believed that my reason for life was to escape from it. I had no idea what a lowlife like me could serve a larger purpose other than what I was currently doing, which was living a life with no purpose. In my mind, heart and spirit I was unable to muster the courage to face a larger purpose other than running from life and could not muster the courage to end my suffering either.
While on my last bits of consciousness, I hoped I took enough for it to be over but knew I didn’t. I was afraid that if I were to pass into the spirit world, I would come face to face with everyone I let down. I would have to talk to my uncle and tell him how I wasted my life. I would have to tell my grandma all the wrongs I‘ve done. I would have to tell my papa about all the sap I didn’t collect and deer I did not shoot. Knowing I would have to face that throughout my eternity, I was not ready to face my most recent ancestors yet. I was afraid of seeing them knowing what I did with my life, so when the tough got going, I was too enveloped in self pity to take any way out.
I couldn’t quit using because I feared my reality and I couldn’t bring myself to end my reality because of the fear of seeing my relatives.
I started a 5 year prison sentence the following week. One year in I figured that I may have problem.
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