I have been in this rehab for 31 days plus the 11 days I was in the psych hospital prior to coming here. I’m not very good at math but I think that equals 42 days sober, which isn’t that many days, but also kind of is when you consider I couldn’t stand to be sober for any of my waking minutes. I should find out tomorrow when I’m going to my next stop, where I will work on myself for the next six months to a year.
“I can do nothing for you but work on myself…you can do nothing for me but work on yourself!” — Ram Dass
This morning I met with the team of doctors, nurses, social workers and medical students who have been handling my care the whole time I’ve been here. They said I’m a completely different person, and it’s most apparent in my appearance (especially my eyes). When I got here I was so miserable, having survived a couple suicide attempts (via heroin overdose). I was on an opiate that treats opiate addiction (Suboxone), and I think it was dimming the light of my personality. I kicked that shit. Now I can laugh.
I went from calling people I love and telling them to just give up on me, because I had given up on myself to feeling like I am just where I’m supposed to be, and going just where I’m supposed to go. I’m cautiously optimistic.
⬆️this is where I’m going ⬆️
If I didn’t have writing, I would have never made it this far. I leaned into it, and the practice. I think I published at least 40 pieces, with minimal lazy filler content , and made it to the 100 follower mark, which got me approved for medium partnership (so my writing can earn money now). I’ve been saving links for when I get out of here to get more into writing as freelance work, if that’s possible. I never really had a hobby outside of playing video games and obsessing over Dead tapes on archive.org. I’m ever so grateful for anyone who pays any attention to my work. Last year I was writing about “well wishing life cheerleaders” (a phrase I made up). I still have them, and I love them. I picked up some new ones, which I am very happy about. No one hates me for how fucked up I am (as far as I know) they just want me to do better for myself. I hope to learn how to go a little easier on myself…that’s the real struggle.
I’m not as ashamed of being an addict with a mental illness. Life is hard, people are fucked up, and many of them aren’t doing anything about it. It’s early in the game, but I’m trying. I have to be careful because I have been this way before, only to fall apart a few months later. I think I have a healthy fear of myself and the harm I’m capable of inflicting inwardly and outwardly. I have some goals that I think are measurable and attainable.
Things are going better than I thought they would, and I will try to stay focused to keep forward momentum going. Thank you to everyone who reads this stuff, and tells me to keep going.
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