Fourteen days in a wake up and I have made it 90 days. Doesn't seem like much to the sober person. To those that have never known the urge to use a drug it seems a small accomplishment. To those that have and no longer use, you know where I am at. To those that are currently wrapped in the illusion of that mystical crystal. Your only 90 days away from where I am at.
It seems a lifetime ago already. I notice things that would have gone unseen in my active addiction. I see people for who they are and not for what they can do for me or what I can take from them and make them think they wanted to give it to me.
Meth addicts are masters of reverse psychology. We can sell condoms to a priest or get someone to give us their last dime. We are masters of lies or so we think. Most see through it, everyone knows there is something more going on. The user thinks we have them fooled. In reality, we fool ourselves into believing that we are believable.
I know now that my lies caused damage to not only the people I lied to and cheated. My lies caused damage to my reputation and self respect. Everyday I try to find someway to undo a wrong. Everyday I look in the mirror and ask myself if I am proud of the man I see. For today, I am Proud.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Reality is for those that cant handle drugs?
Reality is for those who cant handle drugs. A statement for druggies by druggies. Reality is relative to ones own understanding of thier enviroment.
My reality is new to me because for so long I lived in a state of elevated denile. I was sheltered from reality, shielded from my own hell that I created by the false reality that I manifested in my addiction.
For me, the use of meth was a everyday cycle. I used to tell all of my friends, "better in me than on me!" I was one of those muscle headed idiots that had no limitations on the amount I could do before I would snap. I was always ready to snap, meth just increase the probability that I would.
My friends used to laugh and joke about the way I would throw a piece of meth in my mouth, crunch it between my teeth and swish it around like mouth wash. A friend once told me it was the fouliest thing he had ever seen. For me, it just shortened the time before the effects would kick in. I also enjoyed the taste of the drug.
My use of meth enhanced every aspect of my life, FULL TILT was my objective. Enhanced is an odd choice of words. To enhance means to make better, to encrease or to better something. I nearly lost everything however, the highs I got were unimaginable.
My good friend, whom I am no longer able to associate with used to jump off the moon. By jump off the moon i mean this. We would find two of the largest piece of meth or ice in the bag and throw it in our mouths. Imagine if you would, taking a blind step off the moon and falling to earth, once you hit the ground you bounce back up to pluto. My heart trembles and my skin crawls as I remeber the sensation all to well.
Today was a rough day, I sit in my prestine office, surrounded by all of the work related items and METH still calls me. For people like me....... You can take the meth out of our bodies however, you cant take the meth out of our minds. I may be clean physically but my mind is blowing up on the thought of being fucked up. I am a METH HEAD, fault me if you will, judge me if you are that confident in your life. I know what I am, I know where I have been and I know where I will not be going again. For me this is the reality I wake up with and falll asleep with each day.
I wish my fellow Meth heads the best in thier active addictions. May the crystals be true and the law be oblivious to your quest for that rush. I envy your freedom from the reality of what you are doing to yourself. I hope that your cook has his head on straight and doesnt fry you because he has not slept in a week. I sound like a bitch, you have no idea how much more of a man or woman you can be with out that shit. Contradictions, yup.......... I dont chose to be sober, I MUST........... Because I can not control my addiction. I cant simply get trashed saturday and be ok monday. For me, days become weeks, weeks become months and months end up years later and I have nothing to show for it but scar tissue.
If you ever wonder if your HOOKED. Look yourself in the mirror (when your sober) promise your self you wont get high this weekend, go get some shit and heres the kicker, DONT DO IT!!!!!!!!
Yeah its easy, not a chance in hell. You cant promise yourself that and mean it. You will do it if you have it. I did everytime. I would still do it now. I know where to find it, know I could have it right now. But the promise I made to myself I made honestly. I have people counting on me to remain clean. I have something I have never had, a reality I am in control of. It might not be a bed of roses, but METH never was either. I just know that I love METH, it just doesnt love me back. It steals from me, makes me hurt, makes me hurt people and brings out the monster that lives with in my mind.
I am an addict, my addiction is meth, I will never be cured but I dont have to use today to get to tommorrow. I am not willing to sacrifice my self for my addiction. My addiction must become a driving force to remain sober if I am to survive.
Thats all I have tonight. In the future, I plan to post my jurnal entries from my experiences at a rehab clinic in Birmingham Alabama. This might help shed alittle light on where I am coming from.
To the die hards. There is no one outside the window. Make sure your shades are not all bent up. The people next door will notice that..........
My reality is new to me because for so long I lived in a state of elevated denile. I was sheltered from reality, shielded from my own hell that I created by the false reality that I manifested in my addiction.
For me, the use of meth was a everyday cycle. I used to tell all of my friends, "better in me than on me!" I was one of those muscle headed idiots that had no limitations on the amount I could do before I would snap. I was always ready to snap, meth just increase the probability that I would.
My friends used to laugh and joke about the way I would throw a piece of meth in my mouth, crunch it between my teeth and swish it around like mouth wash. A friend once told me it was the fouliest thing he had ever seen. For me, it just shortened the time before the effects would kick in. I also enjoyed the taste of the drug.
My use of meth enhanced every aspect of my life, FULL TILT was my objective. Enhanced is an odd choice of words. To enhance means to make better, to encrease or to better something. I nearly lost everything however, the highs I got were unimaginable.
My good friend, whom I am no longer able to associate with used to jump off the moon. By jump off the moon i mean this. We would find two of the largest piece of meth or ice in the bag and throw it in our mouths. Imagine if you would, taking a blind step off the moon and falling to earth, once you hit the ground you bounce back up to pluto. My heart trembles and my skin crawls as I remeber the sensation all to well.
Today was a rough day, I sit in my prestine office, surrounded by all of the work related items and METH still calls me. For people like me....... You can take the meth out of our bodies however, you cant take the meth out of our minds. I may be clean physically but my mind is blowing up on the thought of being fucked up. I am a METH HEAD, fault me if you will, judge me if you are that confident in your life. I know what I am, I know where I have been and I know where I will not be going again. For me this is the reality I wake up with and falll asleep with each day.
I wish my fellow Meth heads the best in thier active addictions. May the crystals be true and the law be oblivious to your quest for that rush. I envy your freedom from the reality of what you are doing to yourself. I hope that your cook has his head on straight and doesnt fry you because he has not slept in a week. I sound like a bitch, you have no idea how much more of a man or woman you can be with out that shit. Contradictions, yup.......... I dont chose to be sober, I MUST........... Because I can not control my addiction. I cant simply get trashed saturday and be ok monday. For me, days become weeks, weeks become months and months end up years later and I have nothing to show for it but scar tissue.
If you ever wonder if your HOOKED. Look yourself in the mirror (when your sober) promise your self you wont get high this weekend, go get some shit and heres the kicker, DONT DO IT!!!!!!!!
Yeah its easy, not a chance in hell. You cant promise yourself that and mean it. You will do it if you have it. I did everytime. I would still do it now. I know where to find it, know I could have it right now. But the promise I made to myself I made honestly. I have people counting on me to remain clean. I have something I have never had, a reality I am in control of. It might not be a bed of roses, but METH never was either. I just know that I love METH, it just doesnt love me back. It steals from me, makes me hurt, makes me hurt people and brings out the monster that lives with in my mind.
I am an addict, my addiction is meth, I will never be cured but I dont have to use today to get to tommorrow. I am not willing to sacrifice my self for my addiction. My addiction must become a driving force to remain sober if I am to survive.
Thats all I have tonight. In the future, I plan to post my jurnal entries from my experiences at a rehab clinic in Birmingham Alabama. This might help shed alittle light on where I am coming from.
To the die hards. There is no one outside the window. Make sure your shades are not all bent up. The people next door will notice that..........
Monday, September 24, 2007
For some a meth addiction is a recreational hobby (at first). For some it is an instant obsession, others still can use it for the first time and never touch it again. For me, obsession would be an understatement.
During the first few years of my addiction I kept it very well hid, or so I thought. Everyone knew I had a problem except me. The years went by in a blur. Party after party, the loss of several relationships, the beginging of the end of my relationship with my EX WIFE. No matter, my best friend was always there. "Billy" and I had always been friends. Since middle school we were always into trouble.
I was a mitlitary brat, having just moved to St. Mary's Ga. I had no friends.
During the first few years of my addiction I kept it very well hid, or so I thought. Everyone knew I had a problem except me. The years went by in a blur. Party after party, the loss of several relationships, the beginging of the end of my relationship with my EX WIFE. No matter, my best friend was always there. "Billy" and I had always been friends. Since middle school we were always into trouble.
I was a mitlitary brat, having just moved to St. Mary's Ga. I had no friends.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Looking Backwards to the Future?
When you stop and think about who you are and why you are the way you are, what comes to mind. What makes you tick, what sets you off, what turns you on. Where do we develop these TICKS or did we come pre programed? I believe we are products of our enviroment to some extent. We come preprogramed to a point. The atmosphere we are subjected to on a daily basis forces us to become jaded.
The people we meet and interact with develops our skills to communicate with others on different levels. Meth addicts are a creature of habbit. Not by choice, but thriugh their chosen addiction. Meth addicts have many characteristics that set them apart from many other addicts.
We, Meth heads love to tinker with things. We find projects that we wrap our minds around in order to slow the pace at which we have increased our mental speed. When under the influence of our chosen narcotic, we become scatter brained. We think of a thousand things to do, when we pick one, we are locked into until completed. We may not sleep, eat or drink for many hours. It is not all together a bad side effect, however dehydration, sleep depervation and Being F'd up play signifigant roles in our ability to make intelligent choices.
I once had the idea of taking motor vehicle undercoating and spraying the outer casing of my Palm Treo. My thought process was this:
The under coating is tough, providing alot of protection for the device. The drying time was the problem. Thirty minutes is along time in drug time. My solution, bake the sprayed phone case. This would have worked out great had I not placed the oven on broil and got lost in internet porn. I am now the proud owner of a five hundred dollar, undercoated blob. Lesson learned, any idea I have should be ran by a sober person first.
Thats all for today, its friday, I have a new Pathfinder that needs to be detailed. To everyone have a good weekend.
The people we meet and interact with develops our skills to communicate with others on different levels. Meth addicts are a creature of habbit. Not by choice, but thriugh their chosen addiction. Meth addicts have many characteristics that set them apart from many other addicts.
We, Meth heads love to tinker with things. We find projects that we wrap our minds around in order to slow the pace at which we have increased our mental speed. When under the influence of our chosen narcotic, we become scatter brained. We think of a thousand things to do, when we pick one, we are locked into until completed. We may not sleep, eat or drink for many hours. It is not all together a bad side effect, however dehydration, sleep depervation and Being F'd up play signifigant roles in our ability to make intelligent choices.
I once had the idea of taking motor vehicle undercoating and spraying the outer casing of my Palm Treo. My thought process was this:
The under coating is tough, providing alot of protection for the device. The drying time was the problem. Thirty minutes is along time in drug time. My solution, bake the sprayed phone case. This would have worked out great had I not placed the oven on broil and got lost in internet porn. I am now the proud owner of a five hundred dollar, undercoated blob. Lesson learned, any idea I have should be ran by a sober person first.
Thats all for today, its friday, I have a new Pathfinder that needs to be detailed. To everyone have a good weekend.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
At first glance.
At first glance I look just like most men my age. I am in reasonably good health considering the HELL i have put my body through.
My face bares the scars of violence, my nose slightly canted to the side. The tale tale signs of a man that has been struck by another more than once. My eyes are dark, the gateway to my soul or should I say what has been spared of my soul. Loving as they can be, they are cold more often thatn not. The harsh reality of life has removed the boyish charm once bestowed upon me. The lessons learned from life have hardened my heart and quickened my temper.
I stand 6 foot 2 inches at 230 pounds. A formatable apponent when you add anger and meth. My hair is cut short, trimmed neatly to the sides. The MARINES and the mentality of the Corps sticks in my mind.
My dress is casual yet professional. I often wear dress shirts, untucked with denim jeans and dress shoes.
To meet me on the street during the week, you would not ever assume ill of my character. This is how I appear to the social public.
On the weekend or after work, I remove the robes of society and reveal the side of me most well known to those that know me.
The relaxed black tee shirt, exposing my tattoos. The removal of the dress shoes gives way to flip-flops and camo shorts. The addition of a baseball cap, turned backwards, of coarse! This is me. This is the me that I feel comfortable with. This is the me you will get to know before I introduce you to the man I am today.
The ease and comfort I once knew is gone, I can no longer use my skills with my hands as a tool to navigate life and social situations. But it was not always so. My name for now is twistedirish. My story is one that some have lived, some have thought they wanted and others have turned thier heads, minds and hearts away from.
My face bares the scars of violence, my nose slightly canted to the side. The tale tale signs of a man that has been struck by another more than once. My eyes are dark, the gateway to my soul or should I say what has been spared of my soul. Loving as they can be, they are cold more often thatn not. The harsh reality of life has removed the boyish charm once bestowed upon me. The lessons learned from life have hardened my heart and quickened my temper.
I stand 6 foot 2 inches at 230 pounds. A formatable apponent when you add anger and meth. My hair is cut short, trimmed neatly to the sides. The MARINES and the mentality of the Corps sticks in my mind.
My dress is casual yet professional. I often wear dress shirts, untucked with denim jeans and dress shoes.
To meet me on the street during the week, you would not ever assume ill of my character. This is how I appear to the social public.
On the weekend or after work, I remove the robes of society and reveal the side of me most well known to those that know me.
The relaxed black tee shirt, exposing my tattoos. The removal of the dress shoes gives way to flip-flops and camo shorts. The addition of a baseball cap, turned backwards, of coarse! This is me. This is the me that I feel comfortable with. This is the me you will get to know before I introduce you to the man I am today.
The ease and comfort I once knew is gone, I can no longer use my skills with my hands as a tool to navigate life and social situations. But it was not always so. My name for now is twistedirish. My story is one that some have lived, some have thought they wanted and others have turned thier heads, minds and hearts away from.
In my own eyes, I see....
I am a recovering METH addict............
What a statement to make. To look at me you would not suspect, I cover the signs so very well. I hide the scars left on my skin and bury the emotional one deep within.
Everyday I venture into the socially accepted world. Smiling the polite smile or returning the uncertain nod to a stranger. Would they accept the monster that lurks beneth the iron pants and well groomed smile. Would they offer thier hand if they knew the fury that my fists posses. I cover my rage with a smile. I cover my fears with violence. I cover my insecurity with the pain I inflict on others.
I AM A METH ADDICT!!!!!
Recovering Meth addicts and Meth heads only have one thing that seperates them. One is using and one is not. Yes, I am a master of the obvious. In all honesty you never recover from addiction in general, however, the meth head or recovering meth head have the uniquie affliction of suffering from an addiction to a stimulant that ingrains its self into your mind and eats your soul like a cancer.
I am in no way trying to put down my brothers and sisters who are currently using meth, ice, crank, jetfuel or rocket fuel. I am just offering my opinion and letting out alittle of the rage that surfaces on a daily basis.
My Meth addiction was exactly like the drug I was addicted to; fast, furious and at time Deadly.
I lived life holding on to the tail of a bull, my grip slipping with every hit, line or pill.
What a statement to make. To look at me you would not suspect, I cover the signs so very well. I hide the scars left on my skin and bury the emotional one deep within.
Everyday I venture into the socially accepted world. Smiling the polite smile or returning the uncertain nod to a stranger. Would they accept the monster that lurks beneth the iron pants and well groomed smile. Would they offer thier hand if they knew the fury that my fists posses. I cover my rage with a smile. I cover my fears with violence. I cover my insecurity with the pain I inflict on others.
I AM A METH ADDICT!!!!!
Recovering Meth addicts and Meth heads only have one thing that seperates them. One is using and one is not. Yes, I am a master of the obvious. In all honesty you never recover from addiction in general, however, the meth head or recovering meth head have the uniquie affliction of suffering from an addiction to a stimulant that ingrains its self into your mind and eats your soul like a cancer.
I am in no way trying to put down my brothers and sisters who are currently using meth, ice, crank, jetfuel or rocket fuel. I am just offering my opinion and letting out alittle of the rage that surfaces on a daily basis.
My Meth addiction was exactly like the drug I was addicted to; fast, furious and at time Deadly.
I lived life holding on to the tail of a bull, my grip slipping with every hit, line or pill.
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