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This one I did to myself

Posted by Clove45 , 15 June 2013 · 23 views

I got high for the first time when I was 14. I started smoking weed and drinking alcohol on occasion. When I was 15, though I started getting into painkillers and anxiety meds. My drugs of choice were Vicodin and Oxycontin. I wasn't a burnout. I was a highly achieving student, a three-season athlete, and involved in my community. Getting high for me was what kept me calm and focused. Getting high let me deal with busy, crowded hallways and constant pressure hiding everything that was wrong with me from my parents. I had a job and my friends were dealing so I didn't have a problem keeping a steady supply.

Except for one time in the summer when I was 16. My stash ran low so I sent the usual text to my usual dealer but he was out. So was everyone else I knew. I was starting to get the shakes and get panicky and sick so he started calling around for me and finally found someone who had some Vic he would sell me. I got a hold of him and tried to talk him into meeting me somewhere semi-public but he insisted on his house. It sent off every red flag I had, but I was desperate and it wasn't far so I walked over there, since I didn't have a car.

When I got there I was probably clearly starting to go into withdrawal. A fat guy in his mid-thirties answered the door and rushed me inside. I wanted to make it quick so I went straight to business. I must have looked desperate because as soon as I got there he doubled the price on me. I didn't have it, and I started to argue with him. At some point he said "You can blow me for it."

I froze. I was that desperate. I could feel my hands shaking. All I wanted in the world was to get the pills and get out. I didn't care about my body. I didn't care about a blowjob. I'd done it a thousand times before. Who cares? It was a drop in the bucket. He sat down on the couch and I kneeled down in front of him and pulled his pants down and started going down on him. I don't remember after that until I was done. I stole a beer from his coffee table before I left and slammed two pills with it on the way home.

I hate myself so much for doing this to myself.

If you were in a desert dying of dehydration, and you saw an opportunity to get water, wouldn't you do anything for that water?

If you were starving in a storm......no food to bring life.......wouldn't you eat anything to stay alive?

If you were emotionally depleted, no love, just pain......wouldn't you do anything to feel comfort?

If your brain was chemically crashing...........wouldn't you do anything to stop it from doing so?

I see no difference spiritually in what you did to survive, than any other journey another person is going through.

My personal struggle is that I'm trying to learn when I'm getting close to a situation of surviving (with potential harm) and preventing it. This sounds so simple, but is so complex with a hundred layers. It's a behavior of mine that I will need to address for the rest of my life. I need to learn how to make healthy choices that will keep me safe, so I am not forced into survival mode. Again-easier said than done......It's a process. Trial and error. One step forward, two steps back. Around the same tree a hundred times.....Life just isn't linear without challenges.

I hope you give yourself acknowledgement that you were in survival mode due to chemical instability.....and physiologically the human brain will kick in to do anything to try to survive.

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