International Overdose Awareness Day

International Overdose Awareness Day (IOAD) is a global event held on August 31st each year and aims to raise awareness of overdose and reduce the stigma of a drug-related death. It also acknowledges the grief felt by families and friends remembering those who have met with death or permanent injury as a result of drug overdose.

For my friends

Today there is a memorial for my friend Jesse… it’s got me thinking of him and as I was listening to music this morning, this song came on and I was reminded of our last conversation… when he was high and reciting Bible verses to me… tears running down his cheeks, arms wrapped around himself, looking at me then the ground then me, sliding downward in his chair, ashamed and guilt-riddened, desperate for relief and help. I hope… I’m sure he’s found it.

Then I started thinking about other friends that I’ve lost to addiction and this song came to mind. For Damon and Kelly especially…

Finally a song of hope for those still suffering…

Love you.

Still… Jesse

Jesse is still on my mind… not 24/7 but when it's quiet or when certain music comes on (or I play it on purpose) or when I'm on FB and friends post some pictures or something in memorial to him…

I don't want to be over this loss… there was too much invested in our relationship to just get over it.  We went deep into the dark one night… I wasn't prepared for that level insanity… demons.  It pissed me off and I didn't speak to him for a bit.  But it's fucking Jesse and I valued the clean Jesse more than I hated the using Jesse and when he came back from a run, we fucking hugged it out and said we loved each other and we were back…

There is a memorial for him this weekend… I keep thinking I want to be there… I want to help, I want to be with the Fellowship of Missoula NA, I want to be sad with them and be happy with them and hear more about my friend…

I'm glad his suffering of all sorts is over, but I hope it was painless and it fucking sucks he was alone in a fucking van in an Old Navy parking lot… just sitting there until someone decided to investigate.

I hate that he was alone… I hate that he was alone… I hate that he was alone.  What was he thinking?  How was he feeling?  Was he ready?  I hate that he was alone and we don't know…

I've been listening to this in his memory… Love you Jesse.

Recovery and relapse

I had a friend relapse yesterday and this morning I am reading chapter 7 in the NA Basic Text. My old sponsor used to have me read it every time I relapsed or whenever friend I cared about relapsed.

It is an amazing bit of writing. The last paragraph on page 80 is me… in fact I’m all over this chapter.

It wasn’t enough to see my friend coming down from a three day binge on meth… I knew I didn’t want to be in that same position but reading this chapter is reinforcing that I was in fact about to go out. All the signs were pointing to a relapse for me.

I’m writing this even before I finish the chapter… I’m only on page 81 and I had to stop reading because I felt a spiritual experience come over me. The answers are truly in the writing and I just need to refer to it more often.

SIDE NOTE:  Hanging out with this guy yesterday was so good for me… it was the reminder I needed of the consequences of using… sure, it can be fun and all of the things I keep thinking it’d be, but his condition after a three day run was sad… super-twitchy and unable to sit still, feeling guilty and ashamed, hungry and tired…  I was grateful I could be there for him and even more so for the IRL experience of the downside of using… the fucking come-down.

My new favorite page.

And this again

I am definitely manic today… everything is the fucking best… I have a million great ideas… I have too much energy… I love everything and everyone… I’m being very compulsive… I’m feeling very unsettled… I’m emotional af…

I went and saw another doctor on June 30th who changed my diagnosis from major depressive disorder to bipolar II and put me on Abilify, Wellbutrin and Atarax…  it’s only been two weeks and I guess they haven’t kicked in yet.

I admit now that I do have something going on… I’ve been reluctant to admit I might be something like bipolar… I generally like what I’m feeling now… it has some confidence and swagger built in… I kinda don’t give a fuck about shit… except what I do care about, I REALLY REALLY REALLY care about… so I focus on that… laser fucking focus… until another something comes along… SQUIRREL!

But I see the downside… right now I have enthusiasm for my enthusiasm… I’m excited to be excited.  I’m happy to be HAPPY!!!!  Seriously, this is how I feel right now… and I’m coming up with all of these great ideas and I’m compulsively blurting them out obligating myself to them not listening to the voice saying no… shhhh, Craig… don’t say… that.  The downside will be coming as soon as this energy boost is spent and the depression kicks in and the hole that I dug is deeper than it needs to be… dirt… shit piling on.

I do this a lot… I need it to stop for the consequences… I need to go ride or something… focus.

 

Forever reminded

I’m at Sbux working and I had to choose the table in the back by the restrooms since all the little tables up front are occupied already…

I see me… the one from 7 months ago (222 days ago as I write this)… every time a guy with a backpack walks in and then walks out a few too many minutes later… I know whats up… I lived in bathroom stalls…

I’d walk in looking like I’d be buying something just as soon as I relieved myself and head on back to the restroom, hoping it’d be empty and relatively clean… unpack my shit and do my shot… grateful when it didn’t take for fucking ever… flush like I was actually using the facilities, turn the water on like I was washing my hands, pull down for paper towels like I was drying off… all in case you were out there waiting on me… I had to be as legit as possible…

I’d walk out… gaze downward as my face would show the complete opposite of what it was when I walked in… my eyes would be black af as my pupils opened up and covered my entire eyeball… my eyelids fluttering as any amount of light was too fucking much… it was hard to walk sometimes… so much energy surging through my body…

I would walk past the counter, maybe pulling out my wallet to pretend I’d left my card or money elsewhere… but you knew… I had no money anymore… it was just spent up in the bathroom… I didn’t need your coffee for energy… it wouldn’t even register at this point.

I’d be fine for a while until I wasn’t… then another bathroom.

I still get triggered when I go to bathrooms… stalls in particular cause the most feelings… it was an awful existence yet sometimes, it seems really appealing.

Trigger