My story isn’t a unique one by any stretch of the imagination. After a restless detox in a less than cozy facility where fights and screaming matches were a evening staple after dinner. I felt maybe now I could finally begin the process of figuring how it all came crashing down full circle here on a double cot bed in the middle of Jamaica Plain. What was it that was so horrific and unpleasant that taking my own life in a very messy manner seemed like the more suitable option? Once the drugs where gone the alcohol soon filled its place mimicking that belly warmth I so desperately missed and oh how quickly things began to turn for the worst. I was no longer involved with the things I previously truly loved doing. I was a wrecking ball of a partner, absolutely obliterating everything in sight. I picked fights with imaginary shadows, desperately seeking some form of physical pain to distract from the inner mental anguish I carried day in and day out but the help I so seriously sought found me at arms length and I began once more to run towards the things I have and always will love doing forever; Art.
Thank you for sharing! From my experience, I have realized that I am unable to help those who are unwilling to do any type of work on themselves. Whether it be a 12 step route, church, finding a sober community, a spiritual path, whatever it may be to help them change their thinking and their actions. It's a struggle to get out of the lifestyle once we quit using drugs. I personally was addicted to the hustle of addiction. The constant chaos that encompassed part of my soul. I was completely uncomfortable with sitting in silence. I have learned to manage that inner turmoil with friends, work, all types of art, and helping others. I actually need to work on helping others, because I noticed when I seek out others drama, I invite it into my own life to feel some of that unmanageability that I am so comfortable in.