Rinse, lather, repeat.

Daily, I swallowed the lies,
and I gagged on each one.
Nightly, I watched my walls run red,
and I cringed,
cowering in the corner.
The smoke slowly curling,
easing it’s way up out of tortured lungs,
and filling the whole of me
with thoughts of sweet revenge.
My death.
How I used to imagine
laughing all the way to Hell,
only to realize,
I was already there.
Rinse, lather, repeat.
 
This was me in early 2008; I’ve been free and clean and sober since then.  Drugs are indeed a powerful mistress.  If you need help, if it’s no longer a recreation but a way of life, if the drugs are ruining your family, your home, your job, your body, step back, see that bigger picture, this life is all the life we ever get.  I won’t ever go back.  Two years was enough to make me realize that wasn’t the life I wanted for myself.  If you ever need someone to talk to, if you think no one knows what road you’re on, trust me, I know exactly what mile marker you’re at no matter which one it is.  I’ve been homeless, I’ve been afraid, I’ve been a thief, I’ve been ostracized, criticized, abandoned, imprisoned and left to die, with no one giving a shit, with friends who stuck it out and friends who didn’t look back.  But by God, I survived and so can you.  Wait, what am I thinking, if you’re reading this, you don’t have an addiction because you still have internet and electricity.  You’ll have to sink lower before you think you have a problem; I did.  You’ll have to use up that bank account and then some, use up all your friends too, lose your job, lose your home, be even stupider than you can imagine being.  I’m thankful now for every day that I’m not chasing something and thankful for every day that something isn’t chasing me. 
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7 thoughts on “Rinse, lather, repeat.

  1. Very powerful! Thank you for sharing this. It is amazing how low our bottom has to be, how hard we have to hit it. Drugs weren’t my thing, but my She has been. A drug indeed, as you so astutely pointed out to me. Nearly lost my family–not lost, gave them up, walked away, willingly, stupidly. Sometimes I still get drunk enough with my thoughts of Her, I get close to walking again. Thanks again for this reminder. Hugs to you.

  2. Thank you for sharing this personal part of your life. I’m glad you’ve come out the other end. I’m super glad I “found” you.

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