An introduction

I'm writing this as a form of therapy. I keep a real journal, I'm honest in it. I'll be honest in this too. I think I'm better at keeping shit online that I am in a paper journal. Laziness maybe... I don't know.

The upcoming story I posted on facebook to friends, I have decided to post it on here in case anyone randomly reads this and wants to see what the hell I'm talking about.

On November 12, 2007 I was admitted to Maplegrove. Maplegrove is an institute for chemical dependency, or drug rehab. I came clean November 9. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I am a real life crack head. It used to be hard for me to say, but not any more. A few years ago I was diagnosed with depression. I went to therapy, was put on meds, but nothing seemed to work. I've been drinking since high school, but never was really bad until about 5 years ago or so. Even worse in the past few years.

I was the classic binge drinker at first, getting drunk on weekends, having blackouts... yada yada yada... you know the story. Pretty soon, I started not only binging on the weekends, but I would drink every day after work, alone. Life was too hard and when I was drunk, I wouldn't have to worry about problems.

I talked to my therapist about this shit. I wasn't fully honest with her and she told me, "Just stop drinking." I thought yeah right, it's not that easy, but I tried anyway. I thought I was doing good, hadn't had a drink in a few days. Then, I went to a party with a friend I'd known since elementary school. People asked "Why aren't you drinking", told them I was giving it up. That's when I was handed a stem and told "Try this." It was fucking amazing.

I tried crack cocaine for the first time. Shit, that stuff was awesome. It was such a great high. At first I would smoke it once or twice a week. I would forget my problems. Also, I wouldn't be drinking as much. My once or twice a week eventually turned into more... a lot more. Before I knew it, I was smoking that shit 7 days a week and spending $150-$200 a day. The only time I wasn't getting high is when I was at work.

With such an expensive habit came other problems. Getting high was no longer fun for me, it was now a need. The drug and my disease were lieing to me and making me think I needed it. When I was high I had no problems or worries, so I thought. I started stealing money from my family and did what I had to to get high.

It wasn't until I was out of money and hod no where to go, that I realized I had a problem. I remember I was in a parking lot, I had no gas, hadn't been to work in days, and had no money. I texted my older sister and told her I needed help and what I'd been doing. I went to her house and slept all day while she was at work. Her and her husband came home, we had dinner, a half hour later shows up the rest of my family.... she told them.

I went back to my parents house that night. My car, cell phone, and internet were taken away. I had no way to communicate with anyone. The next day I tried getting in rehab, but they couldn't do anything til the weekend was over. I went to an NA meeting scared shitless and crying.

I remember that weekend being stuck at home. I was crawling on my hands and knees looking on my bedroom floor for a rock or something I had dropped at one time. I was pissed that my parents went through my shit and found my stems because I had enough residue to get a couple of hits.

I've been clean for just over three weeks and it has been a hard three weeks. This disease is telling me I can have one drink or take one hit, but I know if I do... I'll be using for another two months and I don't want to go back to where I was.

I never thought I'd be where I am in life. I never thought I'd be a junkie, never thought that I'd still be living with my parents, filing bankruptcy, having a job I hate, friends I never get to see any more.

I have learned that none of those are reasons to go back to where I was. I don't have to go back, I just have to fight this disease that will be with me for the rest of my life.

There is so much shit that goes on in my mind. I can't stop thinking. I'm done with this note. Don't be afraid to ask me anything you want. Being honest with myself and everyone I know is helping me with my recovery.