You speak of my drinking, yet you don’t know my thirst.
(via klonazepam)
My house director sat me down the other night and told me that the whole house thinks I’m in relapse mode because of my behavior this past week. I’ve been ignoring my sponsor’s calls. Not taking my medication. Either sleeping through meetings or talking about how I don’t want to be at them. Monday night I shared from the heart about how I’ve been feeling at an AA meeting, which isn’t where I’m working my program, and everything I said somehow got back to Michelle, so needless to say my opinion of AA has gone to shit. That’s the second time that something I’ve done or said at AA has gotten back to my house director so never again will I feel safe at one of those meetings. “What you hear here when you leave here let it stay here” my fucking ass. Nothing I’ve ever said in NA has left the rooms, and people wonder why I chose to work the program there instead of AA. I’ve been ignoring Tony’s calls and texts or responding with one word. He called me today and I finally answered. Hearing his voice made me miss him a whole lot. It’s been about two months since I’ve been able to see him and that really ruins me when I think about it too much. I saw my friend Johnny at a meeting at this hospital on Saturday night and it turns out he was a patient in detox there, with two days clean. I’m glad to know he’s getting help again but it breaks my heart to know that he keeps going back out there. We talked after the meeting and he doesn’t have a whole lot of hope for himself. He reminds me of me, but I wish he would just try. He’s going to die if he keeps doing this. I had this horrible feeling in my gut when I hugged him goodbye that it was going to be the last time I saw him. I didn’t want to let him go. He called me on Sunday night but I missed his call. He left a voicemail and I saved it. I must have listened to it fifty times in a row that night, in tears. I haven’t been myself since. I don’t know how to describe what’s going on with me. I really don’t know.
I want to thank you for never being there anymore. Your absence has forced me to find my own way.
(via klonazepam)
I was MIA for all of April due to a stay in rehab after detox. It wasn’t exactly the experience I was hoping for but I was deeply depressed that no one really came to visit me while I was there and when you put 16 grown women together in a small facility and only give them seven smoke breaks a day, things tend to get tense. I decided not to go home when I left treatment and am now living in a sober home in South Elgin. I don’t really like it here. I miss Tony and am too far away to realistically expect to see him anytime soon. I miss my family and most of them aren’t even wondering how I’m doing. I’m going to meetings every day and I have met some wonderful souls but I’m having a hard time feeling truly connected with anyone except for a heroin addict who has the chemical compound for ketamine tattooed on his arm. Sticking with the winners, as always. I keep thinking about the first time I was in treatment, when Jonathon told us that statistics say 7 out of 10 of us will end up drinking ourselves to death no matter what. Am I one of the 7? Will any of what I am doing today make a difference?
