Two years ago, I was sitting on the floor of a dirty motel bath tub with a glass plate covered in cocaine somewhere outside of Orlando. My clothes were big and dirty, my hair was oily and messy, my eyes were surrounded with yellowish black circles. I thought this was totally okay. That I was still in control of what I was doing. My then boyfriend... he was in the bed smoking his weed, occasionally asking me if I needed anything, meaning more blow. I had run out of tissues and toilet paper to blow my bloody nose into, so I was using the towels and sheets. When we left the next day, it looked like a massacre with all the blood. I didn't care. We kept driving.
Months went on like this after I got back to NC... eventually I ended up where everyone knew I would. Calling Mom and Dad at 5:30 am because I was arrested for selling coc... not the prettiest situation. To make this incredibly long biography suitable to read, I won't get into gory detail.
A few months later, I was dating my bail bondsman. I loved him, still do. I may not have been IN love with him, but he was one of the best men that has ever come into my life. It was always exciting with him. One night, he asked me to be his sober partner. I agreed. We both managed to go a few days before sinking right back into the horror. One night, I had a really bad realization as I felt myself dying. I took a few Xanax to go to sleep so I could ignore the convulsions. I needed help, and I finally admitted that to myself. The next morning, I called the rehab center and asked to be brought in. I kept in touch with Mike, but tried desperately to keep to myself. Every time I ended up back at his house, it was back to snorting lines the size of my middle finger.
It took a long time to wien myself off of the cocaine. I started smoking pot more, so that I would fall asleep instead of doing more coc. My counselor said this was ok, and it helped me stop. I got a phone call the morning of July 20th around 4:30... Mike, my bail bondsman, had overdosed... alone. I beat myself up over not being there with him for a long time before realizing and understanding that his death is what extended my life.
I'm over a year sober now and am very happy. I got a real job, my life is on track. I'm not sure the purpose of this post, maybe just to give others hope, but I felt like getting this out.
Honestly, I am going to meetings physically because I am required to do so. When I decided I needed help, I think I followed my own route though the steps. I admitted, I made amends, I found God... but in my own way. The program works wonders for those who embrace it, I wasn't ready to do it in an organized way though. I am here with the online meetings because I want to be, I think sharing my stories will help keep me clean and hopefully keep others from falling back down torturous paths. Thanks for the support!
