Husband and I are trying our hardest to not fall off the bandwagon this coming month. It's big news because we both have been hitting the bottle and the narcotics hard. Me especially. They threw me in the hospital twice this month and that's something that I wish I had not done. My doctor says I need help (no shit!) but I just don't know where to seek it. I want to get well, I really do. This blog is about recovery and I need to recover as best as I can.
Drugs have made me the person I am. I won't lie about it. Because I have done them I have the family I have, the education I have, the children I have, and the life that I have had. They have also contributed to my health in a severely negative way. I have shelves of journals that tell the same tale. I have notebooks that I have written the same thing over and over again in. They all say the tale of recovery then failure. They go back to 1992.
Drugs don't define me.
I worked up the nerve to talk about my problem with my doctor, and he said I needed help but did not offer it.
Heroin has become my world and earlier this month I drug an innocent person into that world. I watched their eyes glaze over as I injected the poison into their blood stream. I did that. I introduced them to a world that has taken me for rides that only others can imagine. Rides that have recently ended in hospital ED's and rooms. I don't like being in the hospital. They ask too many questions, there are too many coppers wandering around, and I just don't like being away from my home life.
So I want to try to get clean next month. March will be a drug-free month if I can help it. I am going to try hard. My last day I used: February 17, 2014. I want to make it to St. Patrick's day without using. Then I can call myself a success. Wish me luck!