This was going to be a series starting with 'day one' but I'll leave that to my personal journal, however I do feel like telling a bit of what I am going through. It's been almost twenty nine years since I was born and about fifteen of those I lived with addiction. Lived with, ha. That's a joke, more like fought with and hated, loved, then hated again. Well, anyway, I just recently, finally, was in a position to be able to pull out all my own stops and end the incessant using. In reality, I wrote my roommates a letter that explained everything I could never actually say out loud about myself. And it helped that I had pretty much been at rock bottom for a few months. I told them every detail they would need to know or do in order for me to not fall back into my old ways. A guideline to how my brain works and then I gave them permission to used what they know. Seeing as how I am living in their house with out a job or any other place to go I thought, "hey, maybe this will work."
So, it's been about three actual days without anything but pot and I have to say I feel better now than I did two days ago. I was pissed, hated that I had given them the ability to see into how I actually work. Without a car or money I was a sitting duck destined to be roasted. Without my pills I was destined to find out what life was really like again. The second day was better and since I can't do the drugs my body is craving I'm actually eating again... that didn't take long. I mean, I hate to say it but I've kind of made the situation fold out the way I have hoped for. At almost thirty, I'm not going to get this chance again, guarantee.
So, when I woke up on the third day and my first thought was toward how good I felt, at this point I had begun working out too and my body was completely sore, you can imagine how I wondered that I could move on from this place and time with a new life ahead of me and plenty to see. I have hope that I can imagine a dreamy life and actually achieve it.
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